Life After Detention?
by ThEnder
Summary: The kids from the Breakfast Club all leave detention with new perspectives. How will this change their home and social lives? And what happens when they go back to school? T for language and sexual themes. First fanfic. Constructive criticism welcome.
1. Chapter 1

FF01

Saturday evening, after detention. The red Chrysler squeaked and moaned as it turned into the driveway of the modest, working class home, coming to a crunching halt in front of the garage door. The sound of deteriorating suspension, brakes and transmission rung in his head a bit less than usual, he had a lot on his mind. He sat in his seat, lightly tugging at the neck of his green sweater waiting for his father to say something.

His father carried the demeanor of a man who was nearly at wits end. Brian Johnson could see the stress building in his father's face over the past couple of days since the locker incident. He was torn between trying to be the stern, responsible father figure and the laid back, comforting hand that a son would need after a potential suicide attempt. If he punished his son too severely, it could set him off. Not severely enough and there would be hell to pay from his wife. The internal conflict was wearing him down. Brian could understand that and didn't want anyone to feel that kind of grief over him.

Mr. Johnson rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, pushing his glassed up to his forehead and took in a big breath before breaking the silence. "Brian," he began but paused. He adjusted his glasses and turned to face his son before continuing, "I'm sorry you've been getting so much pressure from your mother and I. I had no idea how much it had been bothering you." He opened his mouth to continue but paused again trying to choose his words carefully. Brian could sense where the conversation was going and while he appreciated the effort, it felt way too awkward to have this conversation with his father, in a car.

Brian began to think about the events that happened earlier at school and though he didn't feel like sharing the details with his father, remembering them somehow gave him a confidence that made him feel like he could open up a little and speak his mind. His father was just about to start unloading carefully assembled dialog again when he was intercepted.

"Dad, you don't have to apologize. It makes me feel better knowing that you understand." Brian said, shifting his eyes around numerous times trying to avoid eye contact with his father. Mr. Johnson's mouth closed and eyes opened wider slightly like a kid who was waiting to hear the opening monologue of an epic fable. Taking the cue of silence, Brian continued, "Don't worry about me. I'm not going to kill myself and I promise I'm going to work my ass off the rest of the year to make up for the F." Brian's face began to feel numb when he realized he'd just cussed in front of his old man for the first time. He expected the hammer to fall right then but his father just sat back with an expression that let Brian know he was still listening.

Regaining his confidence, Brian started up again, "But I'm not perfect. I've screwed up. And I'll screw up again, pressure or not. I took shop because I thought it would be easy and I ended up failing because I didn't realize the skill involved. I got nervous when I knew I had to tell you guys I flunked and thought about killing myself as an easy alternative to facing my problems, which I know now was a childish way of thinking." The edges of his father's mouth started to curl upward and Brian could almost feel the tension melting away.

He was now looking his father directly in the eyes. "Now I know I need to face my problems like a man. I understand if you feel like you have to punish me. I'll accept the consequences for my actions. But if you do, I ask that you only punish me for the flare gun. I feel that being grounded for failing shop is somewhat unjust because the failure was a lesson through which I learned humility." Brian gasped for air as he finished. His eyes were open wide with shock as though he didn't realize what he was saying until he finished saying it. He couldn't believe he'd just said all that to his father.

Brian's dad sat looking at his son whose words hung in the air. After a moment of silence he started chuckling lightly and nodding his head in approval. "I'm impressed, son. You've always been so smart but I never knew how mature you could be." He threw an arm around his son and pulled him in close for a hug. When he let go he said, "I'm proud of you, Brian. Thank you for putting my mind at ease." They exchanged smiles and opened their doors to step out. "Oh." Brian's father called over the roof of the car. Brian looked up at him after pulling his backpack out and slinging it onto his shoulder. "You're grounded for the rest of the weekend and you're going to have some chores tomorrow." Brian chuckled, "No problem."

They both entered the house and Brian's mother came into the living room to greet them. Brian was on a straight track for his room. "Where are you going?" She asked with menacing tone? "Into my room to study." He replied stopping and looking over his shoulder. "I didn't get a chance to during detention, I had an essay." The confidence he had while talking to his father was considerably less while talking to his mother but he managed to retain some of it. "Well you get in that room and don't come out until it's time for dinner." She raised her voice a little. "Ok." he said as he turned to walk down the hallway. His mother turned her focus to Mr. Johnson who was still near the front door hanging his coat. "Did you punish him?" He smiled as he carried his briefcase across the living room. "Of course sweetheart." He said and gave her a peck on the forehead as he walked past. He stopped and turned almost the same way Brian had and said, "But I think he may have already learned his lesson."

He crossed the threshold of his bedroom doorway, pushed the door shut with the toe of his shoe and flopped down onto his bed. He laid there staring at the ceiling, going over the days event's in his mind. He had just done more in one day of detention than he had in his entire high school career. He had lied to the principle, snuck out of detention, ran through the halls of the school to avoid discovery, hidden drugs, taken part in their consumption, ran riot to loud music, poured out his soul and feelings to some of the greatest people he'd ever met, connected with them, said "Fuck you" to one of the most popular girls at school and blatantly ignored the directions of a school assignment. But what floored him the most was that he had made friends. A smile crept across his face as his eyes began to close. He had made friends. It felt nice. Even if it was just for today…..


	2. Chapter 2

Ok I'm gonna try to give all the characters their own chapters in the beginning. The first one was Brian's if you weren't sure. Sorry if it was a little slow. I'll try and pick it up.

The Breakfast Club and its characters are the property of John Hughes.

Saturday evening, after detention, sometime before sunset.

John Bender had been sitting in the bleachers of the football field outside Shermer High School for a lot longer than he realized. Even though he was in no hurry to get home, he decided it was time to leave because the sun would start going down soon. He stood and began walking down the steps making the sound of heavy footfalls echo through the stadium. He thumbed at the diamond earring in his ear and thought of the foxy virgin with red hair. His heart rate increased a little and breathing became a hair more difficult, but it was a good feeling that he didn't understand. He jumped to the ground from the third step from the bottom, landing hard on his feet which caused his knees to buckle. 'What the hell was that' he thought as he sat with his knees in the dirt for a second. He picked himself up and shrugged after he brushed at the grass stains on his pants. He began walking again and looking around the field as he walked out. Everything was lit with bright orange light from the low hanging sun. The light felt warm despite the cold weather and John started to think about detention and the people he had gotten to know. He was happy to know that he wasn't the only one with problems even though he would have liked to trade any of their problems with his. But he wouldn't wish his problems on anyone. Well, almost anyone.

He reached the fence and ran his hand along the top. He stopped and grabbed the railing with both hands, bent his knees and then sprung upward to jump over the fence the same way he did every day. Only today something had him distracted. On his way over he caught one of his feet on the fence. He nearly fell flat on his face but he recovered and looked around for anybody that might have seen his near miss. But it was at Shermer High on Saturday around five o'clock. His posture tightened up and he let out a big sigh of frustration. "What the FUCK is wrong with me today?" he asked himself. He began walking through the parking lot and out to the street to start the long trek home.

John got to an intersection about a mile from the school and stopped. He felt that this particular intersection was significant because it was literally the crossroad that separated the middle and poor class residential part of Shermer, where he lived, from the rich, preppy residential part of Shermer. He looked right, to his part of town, then left, to Claire's part of town. He stared with a furrowed brow down the street at all the big, fancy houses with their bright green, perfectly manicured lawns and expensive cars. 'Makes me wanna puke.' He thought, shaking his head. But he didn't leave… Or stop looking. 'I wonder if she's home.' He thought. His eyes narrowed and his mouth stretched over his teeth, forming a deviously crooked smile. 'I bet I could find her house.'

Bender was crossing the road to walk into the "privileged" community thinking, 'Her folks are gonna shit gold bricks when they see me at their door.' Just as he reached the other side of the street he spotted a dog that he knew all too well. His smirk turned to scowl, the kind that a super hero would give a nemesis. "Skid Mark." he said low enough that the dog wouldn't notice him. But the dog looked over anyway and bared his teeth as if to say 'Bender.' John turned away and exclaimed "Damn it!" as he took off running at full speed. "Skid Mark" tore off right after him. John ran back across the street and into the middle class area, the gargantuan dog right on his heels.

Bender had run into this dog several times over the course of his life. He was notorious in his side of town for chasing people but he chased Bender almost fanatically. More than one time the dog would stop chasing other people just to chase him. John christened the dog Skid Mark after an encounter in which Bender managed to lose the dog when he ran across a busy street. The dog chased after him and got hit by a car. It got up right after and kept chasing him.

The pursuit kept up for a few blocks and John was showing signs of fatigue. "You better hope I don't get tired and stop asshole. Cause then you'll have ME to deal with." He threatened, which seemed to antagonize the mutt. He kept up though he knew words were futile against an animal that couldn't comprehend them, "**I'M** *huff* **SERIOUS!** *pant* **IF I** *weez* **STOP YOU'RE** *cough* **CATCHIN' A** *hack* **RAISED FIST!**"

John's house was close now. He rounded a corner onto the street where his house was in what the local kids called 'Cheap End' with his long coat trailing like a cape. He reached into his pocket, 'If this dog tries to bite me I'm gonna bite him.' He kept looking in his pockets. First his front and back pockets of his jeans then in the breast pockets of his jacket. "Where did I leave that damn thing!" he yelled looking frantically. He was about to check another pocket when a wave of realization hit him. He retraced his steps in his head a little, 'I was waving it at that sporty asshole earlier. Then I drove it into that chair and then wha… THAT KLEPTO LITTLE SHIT!'

He felt the dog grab onto the bottom of his coat but it didn't get a good purchase so he pulled away quickly and ran into his yard with Skid Mark still right behind him. He noticed the little window that led into the basement, which was his room, was open. While running Bender took off his long coat and chucked it backward. The dog grabbed the coat and while he was distracted Bender slid, like a baseball player for home plate, right through the little window and landed on a table which collapsed under him and sent stuff flying everywhere. He scramble to his feet and closed the window as quickly as he could. He paused for a minute breathing heavily and then held his back and head and let out a couple grunts of pain and anger.

He stood by the window and watched Skid Mark gnaw on his coat. He shook his head and said, "Shit, that thing was warm." After a while he stepped down away from the window and took a cigarette out of his pack. He lit it up and started digging through stuff that had landed on the floor when the table had exploded. He turned a few things over and found an unopened can of beer. He cracked it open and took a few generous gulps. After that he put down the can and scratched out the ember of his cigarette on the bottom of his boot, putting the remainder in the breast pocket of his denim jacket. He crossed his arms and looked the room up and down finally sighing and saying, "At least the drunkie isn't home yet..."

He collapsed onto the mattress in the corner and rubbed his ribs which absorbed some of the blow when he fell. He started to think about detention again. About the things he learned, about other people and about himself. He found out that everyone had to deal with bullshit. And he learned that giving people a chance to tell their side can really give you some insight on who's shitty and who's legit. 'Those guys were pretty cool.' He thought of the others from detention. 'They were really cool.' John didn't even think that way about his usual friends.

He thought of Claire more than anyone. Even though she was snobby and a prude, she wasn't the snobby prude he had thought she was in the beginning. In fact she could be hot like a fire when she wanted to be. He had lusted over women before but this was different in some way he couldn't place. When he thought about her one part of him felt great and the other felt sick. He really didn't understand. He just wanted to hook up with her and help her drive her parents nuts, right?

Bender suddenly realized that he wasn't at all sure about his motives. But he could hear the sounds of a big truck pulling in. 'Shit. He's home.' Bender said in his mind. 'Time to keep quiet and pretend I'm not here…'


	3. Chapter 3

That last chapter was a lot of fun to write. I hope I can make the others come out that fluidly.

I do not own any portion of The Breakfast Club or its characters and promise if there are any original characters, they will be few.

Thank you **melniewn** for such a great first review. It really encouraged me to keep writing this thing.

Saturday evening, after detention, just before dusk.

A young girl was roused from sleep by the sound of people arguing. She had been sleeping face down at the foot of her bed as though she didn't even have enough energy to climb in properly and get comfortable before she dosed off. She lifted her head slightly and glanced around the room with squinty eyes trying to focus. She lifted her head a little further to see out the window. As soon as she did the last bit of sunlight was coming into her window and shot straight into her eyes. She quickly buried her face back into the blankets on her bed, the word, "Shit" escaping her lips which still had lipstick on them from earlier. The word voiced not only her pain from experiencing the bolt of light that was much worse since she'd had her eyes closed for a couple hours, but also the mild dismay she felt when she realized that it was so late in the day.

Claire Standish rolled over onto her back, careful to avoid what little sunlight was left. She looked down at her feet and noticed her boots were still on. Her clothes were also unstirred except for a few wrinkles in the parts she had been laying on. 'I must have been sleeping pretty soundly' she thought. She didn't even remember lying down. Another thunderous outburst came from downstairs, making her sit up quickly out of surprise. She began listening in while rubbing her head, she felt very drowsy. She could hear words being exchanged but couldn't make them out through her door.

She took off her boots and wobbled as she stood up still groggy. She smiled as she began taking off her skirt. 'Just being at school has never made me this tired' she thought. 'Of course I don't spend most days with John Bender.' The others who'd been there with her, she assumed none of them had spent an entire day with him either. She had to admit if it weren't for him that would have been the most boring Saturday of her life. But it turned out to be one of the greatest days she'd ever lived, thanks to "Burnout Bender." As much as she didn't want to admit it, it was true. She took off the rest of her clothes and went into the bathroom to take a shower. She could still hear the voices downstairs but in her bathroom they seemed more like whispers.

Claire knew what was happening. She wasn't sure whether to be happy or upset but she settled for indifferent. It didn't make her happy to hear her parents fighting but she couldn't make herself feel bad either. While she knew they didn't care for each other much at all, they hardly ever fought verbally. They often fought their raging battle silently, with her as the weapon of choice. In her eyes her parents screaming at each other was much healthier for them and for her.

After her shower, Claire could no longer hear her parents arguing. She looked at her bedroom door as if her parents were standing right in the doorway and said, "There, don't you guys feel better now?" to herself more than anyone. She put on some comfy clothes and sat down in front of her large vanity mirror to start brushing her hair. While she was alternating strokes between her brush and the fingers on her other hand she started thinking about detention again. All the things she had done and said. Some of them really made her feel like a bitch. Like what she had said about how Monday will play out and that she'd pretend she didn't know or like any of them or how she had downplayed the rest of their problems compared to her own. Something she had so unapologetically admitted earlier was now making her feel sick. She didn't want to be remembered as someone with such low character. As scared as she was about what people might think on Monday, she would have to see. She wasn't sure if she could live with herself if she just bailed on the people who had trusted her enough to open up so personally. She knew it wasn't something that happened very often and knew just as well that it wasn't something to be thrown away.

She ran her fingers across her lips thinking of John Bender again. The thought of him made her feel better, stronger, more independent kind of the way he was. His words though hurtful usually, made her realize she'd been missing out on so much and made her want to learn how to be tough and speak her mind without fear of repercussion like he did. She didn't know when it happened but she had started to admire this guy who she'd wanted to strangle several hours earlier. He was a sarcastic, fowl mouthed, perverted, asshole. But he was also honest, generous and if he really, really tried respectful and charming. It didn't hurt that he was handsome and a good kisser either.

After thinking for a while, Claire broke herself out of the 'Bender' bender and decided to head downstairs to eat something. She shut her bedroom door behind her and headed down the stairs slowly because she had almost no energy. When she reached the bottom her father was sitting on the couch with a glass of scotch in one hand and a newspaper in the other, fully immersed in reading. He caught her out of the corner of his eye and looked over to her. "Hey Pumpkin." He said before taking a sip of his drink and looking back down at his paper. He had an irritated look on his face. "Hey Dad." She replied walking toward the kitchen. "What were you guys fighting about?" He looked up again just in time to see her walk into the kitchen. "Nothing you have to worry about, Sweetheart." 'Yeah right' she thought. She had a pretty good feeling she knew what the fight had been about.

She grabbed some grapes from the fringe and sat at the counter to eat some. She remembered her father didn't particularly like seeing her kissing John earlier. It was nothing he said that gave it away but more so the way he said what he'd said. She had climbed into the car after kissing him and after they were down the road from the school a little he asked her, "Who was that?" "Just a boy from school" she replied staring at the dashboard. He laughed dryly. "Well I assumed that much Sweetie. Is he a boy you're dating?" Claire didn't think she could really call it dating. She'd just kissed him because she had become mildly attracted to him and because she wanted to prove that she could be bold and spontaneous. But it wouldn't really sound good if she told her father she was kissing a boy she wasn't exactly dating or even knew really well for that matter. So she lied, "Yeah, we're dating." She could hear her father's teeth grinding. "Oh. Well that's nice" he said clutching the steering wheel a little tighter. "He seems… Interesting." He said and swallowed so hard his Adam's apple rolled up and down his neck like he'd just choked down a baseball.

Claire was snapped out of her memory when mother came into the kitchen clutching an empty wine glass and looked slightly flustered herself. She saw Claire sitting at the counter but didn't say anything at first. Claire stared at her rather blankly as she opened a cupboard and grabbed a bottle of wine on a shelf she almost couldn't reach. She filled her glass and corked the bottle leaving it on the counter. She walked over to Claire and gave her a kiss on the forehead and said, "Hey Princess." She began running her fingers through her daughter's hair. Claire just smiled at her while she chewed on a grape. "So, who's this boy I've heard about, darling?" Her mother asked her but asked loud enough that her father would hear. Claire's eyes shut tightly for she knew what was coming. She heard a newspaper being dropped on an end table in the living room as well as the shuffling of ice in an empty glass heading for the kitchen.

She had no idea how to get out of this so she just started talking without even realizing it or realizing that what she was saying wasn't the truth. "We met a few weeks ago in English and started talking." She tried to keep it short and as simple as possible. "It's nothing serious. We just hang out at school together." She turned around and saw her father leaning in the door way. "Well today wasn't a regular school day, it was detention" he said in a calm tone. "You didn't happen to get detention on purpose to spend time with this boy did you?" Claire grimaced at the accusation. "Do you really think I would get detention on purpose?" Her mother piped in, "Oh come on darling don't be such a tight ass" she said to Claire's father. "Tell me more Honey." Claire hated when they called each other by pet names even though they couldn't stand each other. "He hadn't been in detention. He found out that I had gotten detention and came to see me when I got out." She fabricated. "Oh that's so sweet. Is he cute?" her mother persisted. Claire looked at the floor. "Yeah I guess." she understated her true opinion on the subject.

She could hear teeth grinding again. Her father put on a fake smile that a blind person could identify and asked, "Do you think this guy is your type Sweetheart?" This question she took very seriously. She was quiet for a second and replied, "I don't know Daddy. That's why it's not serious. I'm still trying to figure out if it will work." Her father seemed to relax a little. He knew most girls her age weren't so careful about relationships and even though she appeared to be dating someone he wouldn't have chosen for her, she seemed like she was being mature about the whole thing. Her mother broke in again, "Her type? Geez, you never let her have any fun." She put her hand on her daughter's and laughed, "He's such a buzz kill isn't he?" Claire winced at the comment. "Mom, don't say that." She tried to defuse the situation that was building. Her father rang back, "I'm just looking out for her best interest, unlike you dear." Her father could make 'dear' sound like, 'Hope you choke.'

All of a sudden they were at each other's throats again and dragging her right into it. They were shouting things like, "Don't listen to him you can go out with whoever you want!" and "Just ignore her she's drunk!" Claire was covering her ears watching them go at it. A single tear slid down her cheek and for whatever reason she thought of him again. She thought about what he might do in a situation like this. She uncovered her ears and tried to compose herself. She got between them and started trying to calm them down. After a few minutes of being screamed over she couldn't take anymore. **"THAT'S ENOUGH!"** she yelled out so loud she could feel her voice vibrate through the room. Both her parent's stopped dead in their tracks jaws agape. She stepped from in between them and walked to a spot where she could look at both of them. "I've had enough of this! You two are totally fucked up and you're going to make me that way! I'm not a gun that you can point at each other I'm your daughter! I'm sorry if your marriage hasn't worked out the way you'd hoped but that's no excuse for what you guys are doing! If you guys want to get a divorce, DO IT! If you want to stay together and be miserable that's fine too! But Goddamn It, **LEAVE ME OUT OF IT!**"

She stormed out of the kitchen without looking back to see her parents' reaction and ran up to her room slamming the door behind her. She threw herself onto her bed and turned over on her back. Her eyes were fixed on one spot in the ceiling, a stare so menacingly potent she could have burned a hole through the roof. She dragged her hand across her face wiping away the trail that the renegade tear had left behind, the tear that she fought so desperately not to shed, the tear she swore she wouldn't cry for these fucking people. 'Ok. That's the last one' she thought. She sat up and reached over to her end table grabbing her phone. There was only one person who could understand what she was going through. That was the only person she could think to call…

Please let me know what you guys think :)


	4. Chapter 4

That was the longest chapter I've written yet. I didn't think I'd be able to write that much about Claire but once I started the words just started pouring out. Thank you for reading and reviewing :)

Once again I do not own any of the characters from the Breakfast Club and am writing simply for fun. That being said, onto the next one!

Saturday night, after detention.

Beads of sweat poured off of Andrew Clark's face as he stood in the center of a large room with a colossal crowd raging around him. He'd just won his match in the dual meet at the Shermer City Gymnasium by a hair thin margin and the audience was going nuts. His chest expanded and contracted from heavy breathing but he managed a smile and extend his fist high into the air proclaiming victory but not in his usual muscle flexing, He-Man battle cry sort of way. He was more humble tonight, now that he had come to grips with the fact that winning was only a means of keeping his father off his back. He could have beaten his opponent a lot easier but he had been purposely sandbagging the entire match. His smile grew larger when he remembered how much he'd enjoyed looking over at his father and seeing him pulling his hair out in frustration.

Andrew lowered his hand and left the mat. He received praise and pats on the back from his teammates and coach as he returned to the bench to collect his stuff. There were other matches starting but he wasn't going to stay and watch them. He had driven there himself and planned on leaving to go get some exercise in. The team usual went out for burgers after a meet but he didn't feel like doing that tonight and since he couldn't really do what he felt like doing tonight he settled for working out alone. He put on sweatpants and a sweatshirt over his 'tights' he recalled from earlier. He also remembered the 'guys who roll around on the floor with other guys' comment and his smile faded. 'Fuck that guy' he thought. He grabbed his bag and headed for the exit spotting his father on the way out. His father was staring daggers at him as he passed but it didn't bother him at all for some reason. In fact Andrew leered right back and the side of his mouth curled up into a purposefully arrogant smile that said 'What are you gonna to do about it'

He left through the large front doors and down the stairs into the parking lot. As he walked to his truck the only thing he could think of was the squeaky little weird girl from earlier today. She'd been the main reason he had made the match such a close call on purpose. The entire time he had imagined she was watching him. If she actually had been he may have thrown the whole thing just to show her he didn't care anymore, even though a small part of him still did. He didn't like winning for others but sometimes, and rarely, he enjoyed winning for himself. Either way, he knew that she'd never come to see him do something like this. He couldn't blame her really.

'Man I can't wait to see her again' he thought. He wished he could have seen her tonight but he'd forgotten to ask for her number or address. "Guess it'll have to wait 'til Monday" he gulped. It was nice to think on Monday he'd see her in the halls and walk right up to her, wrap his arms around her waist and kiss her soft lips deeply again, in front of everyone without worrying about what they'll think. But he didn't know how he would really act until he was in that situation. He wanted her, but he knew that when he went back to school the pressure would be on a lot more and he may just buckle and walk past with his friends and wreck a real shot at being with her. The conflict overwhelmed him a bit and he decided to try not to think about it too much.

He reached his truck and as he was about to unlock the door he heard someone yell, "Andrew!" He spun around quickly and saw his old man approaching, huffing with anger. Andy withdrew his keys and tossed them up and down in his free hand waiting for his father. His dad stopped about a foot away from him and raised his voice, "What the hell was that!" A little bit of spit landed on Andy's face which he wiped off with an exaggerated look of disgust.

"You let that kid dry hump you all over the mat!" his father continued. "Why did you half ass out there boy?"

Andrew's eyes narrowed but he kept his voice calm, "I won, didn't I? What's the other stuff matter?" His father yelled at him again, "Because no colleges want an athlete that's 'just ok'! They want athletes that annihilate all opposition! They want winners that win without even a thought that they might lose! Do you want to half ass the rest of your life?"

Andy looked at the ground and answered, "Maybe I do" trying to keep it quite enough that his father might not hear it. "What was that?" his dad grabbed him by his sweater and yanked him closer. Andrew stared him in the face with a scowl that was as intense as the one he was being given but said nothing. His father's face was beginning to turn red when he let him go and turned to leave. He turned back around and pointed a finger Andrew's way while still walking. "You better get your shit together boy!" he said and headed back inside. Andy watched his father walk off for a minute before opening his door, throwing his bag into the passenger seat and climbing into the driver's seat. He started up his truck and took off heading for the all night gym.

The entire ride over he kept looking at the seat center of the passenger and driver seats, thinking how awesome it would be if Allison were there sitting so close to him. He wouldn't be headed to the gym that's for sure. He'd be heading to a nice secluded spot where they could spend some time alone. That's what he would be doing tonight if he had his way. He hadn't stopped thinking about her since he left school earlier. When his father had picked him up, he saw him kissing her and when he got into the truck his dad said, "Hey, nice catch sport." As much he hated hearing his father talk sometimes, he had to agree with that.

The place was practically empty when he got there, except for some custodians. Most people had better things to do on Saturday night. He stretched for a while then began jumping from machine to machine, lifting weights, doing all sorts of pushups and pull ups, running on the treadmill, all the while his mind was on strange little Allison Reynolds. It made him push even harder. He'd snap out of thinking of her and realized he'd lost count of his reps or had run twice as far as he normally could. It felt like earlier when he'd hot boxed in that office in the library and got that crazy energy boost after. He'd never smoked before but he knew that wasn't the typical reaction that comes from smoking reefer. He was thankful one of his friends provided him with some clean piss he could give the doc during his check up before the match.

He kept hammering through his workout, and then some. He couldn't believe how great it felt just thinking about her. Like his own personal drug that he didn't have to worry about smuggling clean piss for. He had been on the treadmill again running his ass off when he stumbled and one of his feet dragged on the band causing him to fall on his stomach and he was flung off the speeding machine like a pebble from a slingshot. He hit the ground hard and rolled a few times crashing into a wall. He immediately sat up on his knees. He was dazed but his adrenaline was pumping hard enough that he didn't feel that much pain. He sat there breathing hard for a few seconds and rested his hands on his legs. His eyes darted around the floor where he had fallen then he burst into guttural laughter. A custodian saw the whole thing from across the room and stared dumbfounded for a minute. He'd never seen someone eat shit so badly and then laugh it off. He continued mopping the floor and Andy decided that while he didn't feel hurt he should probably call it a night, still laughing when he went to gather up his things.

On the way home he took a detour through the neighborhood. He drove slowly scanning each house he passed. When he reached the end of the street he turned down the next one, and the next one, and the next one. He just needed to find the car she'd gotten picked up in. After rolling into Cheap End around 11:15pm and had started to feel like a stalker and he didn't like that one damn bit. At this point he thought he'd better turn around figuring that if he did find her house it would be kind of creepy on his part to show up at such a late hour. And it might get her into trouble. Of course if what she said about her parents was true, she might thank him for getting her into a little trouble but he chose to go home anyway.

He pulled into his driveway next to his father's truck and turned his off. He sat in the driver seat for a while and laid his head against the head rest. It started to bug him how much he thought about Allison, just in one day. It made him feel crazy. He'd just met her and knew nearly nothing about her but maybe that's what attracted him to her. She had a level of mystique that made her irresistible to his unquenchable curiosity, giving only enough about herself to make him want more. He sighed and opened his door to get out. He began walking up the driveway when he remembered his gym bag. He went around to the passenger side and grabbed it. As he went to close the door, he backed up and stepped in a pile of dog shit. He cursed under his breath and shut the door. When he was walking past his father's truck, he stopped and smiled. He opened the passenger side door and saw the brown floor mat below the seat. Andrew then slipped off his shoe and began wiping the dog shit off on the floor mat of his dad's truck. After getting as much off as he could he slipped it back onto his foot and started walking back up the driveway. 'That's gonna be ripe tomorrow' he spoke in his head and cracked up a little.

He walked into his house where all the lights had been turned off and his parents were asleep. After tossing his bag into his room and got a shower he crawled into bed. All his energy from earlier was gone and now he felt close to crash. He laid there with his eye lids getting heavy and his head sinking further and further into his pillow. He wished she was there next him. 'Maybe I'll dream about her tonight… I hope I do...'

Sorry for the sappy ending on this chapter. I'll try not to make the next one so cheesy. Reviews appreciated :)


	5. Chapter 5

Happy New Year Everybody!

Well this is the last chapter before I start to intermingle the characters. It's probably boring reading about them one by one haha. But that's how it started in my mind. This chapter took a long time to write because it's, to me at least, the most complex character in the movie. That and every time I sat down to write something or read somebody's story something would come up and it was a big pain in the ass but it's done now. So without further ado…

I do not own the Breakfast Club or any of its characters and make no profit from my writing.

Allison Reynolds walked into Shermer High around the same time she usually did, so nervous she could feel her heartbeat in her temples. She began biting her nails as she thought about how quickly the weekend had gone by. Whatever confidence she may have had started to seep out and she was feeling very worried. She'd already arrived at the conclusion that they would ignore her but now she began to think that when it happened she wouldn't be able to hold herself together.

The halls were filled with students laughing and yelling and stomping like hapless pigs running happily in their own excrement right before the impending slaughter. After every other step she took, Allison would be bumped by somebody who hadn't noticed she was there. Even after being bumped into she wouldn't be acknowledged. She began having trouble breathing and just wanted to get out of the hallway and out of the crowd. Just as the last bit of her courage fled and tears began to escape everything went silent.

Allison looked up and saw that everyone had stopped talking and laughing and horse playing. She also noticed they were all looking down at the end of the long hallway. She stood on the tips of her toes to see what they were all looking at and saw, above all the heads of the other kids, a very familiar mane of light brown hair. Her eyes widened and her heart felt as though it stopped. As the tuft started moving closer and the crowd of students began to split apart, she could see a pair of blue eyes that never left her despite every other girl that was in the room. The crowd parted more and a nose was revealed. Allison began to smile and her breath became slower and deeper but still difficult. Then she saw a warming smile and she could not believe what was happening. Andrew Clark was walking up to her in the middle of school and not only paying attention to her but ONLY to her.

He was spitting distance from her when she thought, 'please don't just walk past me. Please stop and talk to me at least. Shit! I forgot his sweater at home! Please stop and talk to me.' He stopped right in front her and reached out, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close. He softly rubbed the side of his face against hers and she smiled nervously as she buried her face in his neck, melting in his embrace. He moved his hand to the back of her neck and pulled his head back so he could look into her eyes. She was frozen as he started moving his face closer to hers again, closing his eyes. She closed hers as well and started feeling all the butterflies she had felt right before he'd kissed her after detention. Her spine quivered when she felt the warmth of his breath on her lips, he was so close she could nearly taste him…

Saturday night, after detention, near midnight.

Allison Reynolds jolted awake with a loud squeak. She heaved in and out and her hairline was damp with sweat. Her eyes dashed around her bedroom as she tried to recognize where she was, realizing suddenly and frowning with disappointment. Slowly her breathing returned to normal and she rubbed her lips thinking, 'I sure could've used another one of those.' She let her hand fall to her pillow above her head and thought for a couple seconds after which she threw her cover off and vaulted out of her bed. She scurried over to her desk across the room and opened the bottom drawer. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw Andrew's patch from his letterman jacket, picking it up and smiling as she rubbed it on her cheek as if it were a fuzzy, little kitten. She got a nice whiff of it before she stuck it back in her drawer and slid it shut quietly. 'Good. That wasn't a dream' she thought.

She knew she wasn't getting back to sleep so she opted to go down stairs and get something to eat. She opened her door slowly, mindful that opening it too fast causes it to creak very loudly. Tiptoeing down the hall, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and onto her night shirt which she noticed was also damp from her vivid dream. That combined with the temperature of the house made her shiver but she smiled none the less. She never thought that any guy would be able to make her sweat wearing only a shirt in a 60 degree house. She made her way downstairs, around every creaky spot she'd committed to memory and into the kitchen, opening a cabinet and grabbing a clean glass. She went to the sink, filled up the glass and took several swigs while she looked out the window over the counter.

When a she saw a pickup truck go by on her usually quiet street she watched and wondered who it was. It was moving slowly like the driver was scanning houses. After it passed she shrugged it off and proceeded to another cabinet. She grabbed a pack of pop tarts and ripped them open. She took a small nibble off one before grabbing the jar of peanut butter and spreading some on with her bare finger. She licked the excess off and put the jar away. Then she got some gummy worms and sprinkled them on, finally pressing the whole mess together with the other pastry and put it on a plate. She walked over to the table, sat down, took a huge bite, which was so big she could barely keep her mouth closed around it, chewed and swallowed unflinchingly.

The gears in her head began turning and grinding away as she mulled over the dream that had violently thrashed her from sleep, processing memories to produce new thoughts. While taking another bite of her sugary concoction, she started to wonder how she might feel on Monday when she got to school. Did she really feel a sort of connection to any of those people from detention, one that she was afraid to have severed? The thought of being overlooked at school on Monday had only slightly bothered her before. She figured she'd get upset when it happened but get over it quickly, going back to what she knew, being invisible.

Now she wasn't sure at all how she may feel when Monday comes around and the "Breakfast Club" is cast asunder by their respective social differences. Would she feel anguish like she had in her dream? The possibility wasn't out of the question.

After she'd finished inhaling her latest Frankenstein creation, she stood up and sauntered over to the sink, set her plate down inside and grabbed her glass to refill. She stood there drinking and staring unconsciously out the window, running the fingers of her free hand under the cold water pouring from the tap. Did she really like them enough to be scared to lose them? She was almost positive that Claire would hold true to her word but she couldn't make herself feel any sort of ill will against her. The redhead had made an attempt to be nice to her and Allison had even felt an odd comfort when she spoke to her, like they'd known each other before that day.

Brian seemed minimal risk as far as the prospect of him omitting her. He may change his mind and decide that befriending the bat-shit crazy girl might hurt his already undesirable image, but the sincerity in his voice when he said he wouldn't pretend he didn't know them had really struck a chord and "us weirdos" sounded really good to her.

Bender was, in his own right, someone of value. He would tell someone exactly what he thought of them without concern of the reaction it might cause. That sort of honestly couldn't be bought. Plus Allison really appreciated his seemingly effortless talent for fucking with people.

And then there was, of course, Andy. She really didn't know how to feel about him. Part of her was smitten and couldn't wait to draw a caricature of him covered in black and white hearts on her wall. And the other part felt that realistically, something so great couldn't be true. She'd experienced enough letdowns and disappointments to know that really good things never last. She really did like him but her gut told her that it wasn't worth the risk and she shouldn't get too attached.

She all the sudden felt steam on her face and looked down at her hand which was now red from running it under hot water. She'd been so deep in thought she hadn't noticed the change. She pulled her hand out, shut the water off and found a dish towel to dry off with, yawning sleepily afterward in spite of her mental anxiety. She snuck quietly back around the noisy spots in the floor, silently up the stairs, soundlessly down the hall, opened her door inaudibly and all at once just didn't care anymore and slammed it shut.

She heard the sound of people stirring in the other room and her jaw moved from side to side as she looked over to the area the noises were coming from. She heard footsteps and then a door opening simultaneously shining light underneath her door. A very large, gleeful smile erupted on her face as she watched the shadow of feet stretching into her room from under the door, stop for a moment and then recede followed shortly after by the light and the sound of the door and the sound of footsteps and the sound of people stirring, going back to sleep. The smile didn't leave her face, it didn't even shrink or twitch or budge. She'd finally gotten a reaction out of them, even if it wasn't the one she'd hoped for, it was ground she hadn't tread on in a very long time. She strode victoriously over to her bed and slipped under her covers. She grabbed her pillow and smashed it tightly over her head as she burst into a fit of laughter, kicking her feet and rolling side to side, stopping to take breaths and diving right back in.

She continued like that for several minutes and finally pulled the pillow off her face, stuck it back behind her head and jutted her lower lip out a little, which released a large puff of breath that cleared the hair out of her eyes. She felt invigorated, empowered, inspired. She made an immediate decision not to let herself be ignored anymore. Tomorrow she would track down her friends from detention and not leave them alone until she knew their intentions for Monday…

Please let me know what you think and get ready for multi character interaction!


	6. Chapter 6

Well the individual character perspectives are over and now it's time to really get this thing going. I promise I'll do my best to keep things interesting.

I do not own "The Breakfast Club" or its characters.

Brian laid sleeping face down in a drool ridden pillow. Rays of the early morning sun had begun to pierce through the spaces in the blinds and warmed the back of his neck. He stirred a little, shifting onto his back causing his mouth to fall open and a very loud, log sawing chain of snores. He'd passed out early the evening before while reminiscing over his exploits even earlier that day, the detention that "changed his life." While it was a day that had indeed imprinted itself into his very being he had no idea how much it was actually about to change him.

The comfortable silence of his room was abruptly pulverized when his mother burst in and woke him up with a bombardment of questions and orders. He was so startled that he fell off the side of his bed and landed on his back with his feet sticking up in the air for a few seconds, eventually rolling to one side and slamming the rest of his body onto the floor in a miserable heap. He forced out a long, tired groan and pulled the comforter down, wrapped it around himself and tried to bury his head underneath his bed. He could hear his mother talking and straightening things up around his room but he didn't even attempt to deduce what she was trying to tell him, attempting instead to go unnoticed and maybe back to sleep if he could manage.

His mother reached down, dragged the blanket off him and lightly kicked his heel with the toe of her shoe. "Get up. You're not on vacation, you can't sleep in all day" her words rang coherently in his ears for the first time that morning. Brain lifted his head and nearly let a string of obscenities shoot out of his mouth when he bumped it on the bottom of the bedframe, biting his tongue at the last minute and looking around groggily. "Isn't it Sunday?" he asked, playing dumb. She opened the blinds on the windows, letting the sunlight flood into the room and he covered his face with his hands and groaned once more. "Yes it is Sunday and as I understand it you're grounded and have chores to do. Now get up, put some clothes on, get started and don't make me tell you again" she replied, the volume of her voice getting louder as she finished. Brian stood up and stretched. "Your dad went into the office earlier and I have to take your sister to gymnastics" his mother continued. "While I'm gone you're not to leave this house unless it's to do chores, understood?" Brian stood, arms crossed, looking at his feet, and asked, "Where would I go?"

"Nowhere!" she exclaimed. "Understood?" she asked again.

Brian faced her this time and shrugged, "Sure, no problem." His kept his feelings under a guise of apathy when really he wanted to tell her to step off a little, deciding that there was a time and place and in his room just after waking up was not it.

Meanwhile at the Clark household…

"Honey! Where the hell are my keys?" Andrew's father asked from another room. Mrs. Clark sipped some of her coffee, looked over at her son from across the dining room table and asked, "Have you seen them?" Andrew stuffed a few forkfuls of eggs and sausage into his mouth and chewed thoroughly as he shook his head, his bed hair sticking out in all directions. His mother tilted her head backward and yelled, "I don't know Sweetheart."

Mr. Clark walked into the dining room and grabbed a few pieces of bacon as he passed the table, "Never mind, I found them." He walked into the kitchen, opened a cabinet and pulled out a mug, setting it down next to the coffee maker waiting for the next pot to be finished. "Who drank all the damn coffee?" he asked, looking over at his family at the table. Andy held up his mug to signify that he had been the perpetrator with a prideful smile branched across his full, chewing mouth. His father huffed with irritation and turned back to the coffee maker.

Andy's mother set her newspaper down and asked, "So how did your match go last night?" Andy stopped chewing and looked up from his plate. He could hear his father's neck muscles tense up as he shifted his head to face the table again. He sat up straight and tapped the end of his fork on the table as he swallowed his food with an audible gulp and answered, "I won." He looked at his father who silently held in his frustration and turned his attention back to making his coffee. His mother eyed the both of them for a second before taking a sip from her mug and returning to her newspaper, softly adding, "Well that's nice."

Andrew moved back to his plate and continued stuffing his face. 'Trying to keep weight on really blows' he thought, choking down the last of his breakfast and leaning back against his chair. His father spun around with his coffee and began walking toward the table saying, "One of the guys called in last minute, I have to go into the store for a couple hours" as he kissed his wife's cheek and grabbed some toast. "I'll be back around noon." He added and headed for the door.

"Ok, see you later Honey." Mrs. Clark called after him. Andrew held in a small laugh and said, "Have a nice drive dad" remembering the "surprise" he'd left the night before. His father looked back at him from the doorway and said, "Thanks Sport." With that he closed the door behind him and left.

Andy stood up and pounded back the rest of his coffee, walked over to his mom and kissed her on the top of the head, "Good breakfast. I'm gonna get dressed and head out too." "Where to?" his mother asked. He answered without breaking stride, "For a walk" and proceeded to his room.

Over in Cheap End, John hadn't slept. He hardly ever did after an incident in which he was woken by his father grinding a boot into his face and then proceeded to pummel him until he was bruised, bloody and broken all because he thought that John had stolen his weed which he later found in his own bedroom. He never apologized to John or even acknowledged that it had happened. Since then John usually sat up at night with the lights out, waiting with a bat or a knife or a bottle never too far from reach.

He'd been sitting on his mattress with his back against the wall since the sun came up and he was really tired. His eyes lids were being held open by sheer force of will but for the most part he was unconscious. That is until he heard a bang that made him jump. He looked up at the ceiling of his room, which was no more than crossbeams and floorboards of the room above him, and listened. He could hear the sound of heavy, lumbering footsteps and see dust falling through the boards as the rumbling thumps moved closer and closer to the spot over his head.

He looked at his arm which was extended, with his hand buried under a few pieces of the table he hadn't cleaned up from yesterday. He had reached out and grabbed something that was under the pile of splinters when he heard the bang, in a movement as subconscious as breathing. He pulled his hand out and saw that what he was holding was a shank that he'd made in shop out of a discarded piece of metal. He dropped the metallic shard on the floor and shook his head. He refused to believe he was that scared of the man.

He got up and in defiance of his fear yelled at his alcoholic father through the floor, "Why don't you stomp a little louder? I can still hear myself think!" The thunderous treads stopped a couple feet over John's face and suddenly a huge cloud of dust burst out from between the floorboards and flew into his eyes and mouth causing him to fall back onto his bed in a coughing fit. His dad stomped hard on the floor several times while yelling back, "There, how's that! Is that loud enough, you cock sucking, freeloadin', little faggot!"

John lifted himself up on his elbow and, half coughing, answered, "Yeah but the dead still aren't up yet."

"Fuck you, wiseass little shit" his father rang back as he started walking away. "Oh, dad?" John called out and waited for the footsteps to stop again, "I only suck cock when I'm broke." He stood, picked up a wooden bat and waited for a violent response.

"Well then maybe I ought to put you out on a corner and make myself some real money" was his dad's reply before he stormed off to another part of the house. At that John tossed the bat onto his mattress and took a deep breath, letting his building anger flow out as he exhaled. He'd gotten lucky. Bender guessed that his father was hung over and not in the mood to try and flog him to death. If he'd been shit face drunk or totally sober there would have been a lot more than words exchanged.

After waiting silently in the basement for what seemed like hours, John heard the front door slam shut and the truck outside roar to life. He looked out one of the ground level windows and watched his father swerve and screech off down the street. He left the window and kicked some junk out of his way as he crossed the room to the door leading to the stairwell. He climbed the stairs up to the door the opened up into the kitchen. He rummaged through every cupboard, drawer, the fringe and pantry and found nothing to eat. 'Too much to ask' he thought to himself and headed down to the hall to the bathroom, passing his parent's bedroom on the way. His mother was still lying down in bed.

She yelled to him as he passed, "John?" He stopped and stepped backward, leaning back to poke only his head in the doorway, "What?" "Are you going somewhere today?" she asked him as she adjusted herself into a sitting position. Bender arched an eyebrow and huffed sarcastically, "No, I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed and then cut the grass and maybe fix that leak in the roof, if I have time. You see, a few of the guys from the debate team at school invited me to a high end luncheon and it would be really embarrassing if I told them that I was held up doing housework."

His mother stared him down with a look that would intimidate most people. He wiped his sarcastic smile off his face but levity lingered in his voice, "You're really not a morning person, are you?"

She took the last cigarette out of her pack, tossed the empty box onto her bedside table and began searching for her lighter as she asked, "If you leave, do you think you could pick me up a carton?" John feigned thought, replied simply, "No" and started back down the hall. His mother hollered his name again and he stopped and poked his head back in, "What?" She stared at him again but in a more pleading way. He shook his head at her and said, "Fucking Christ, I'll see what I can do." He took his matches out of his pocket and tossed them to her, "Now let me get that breakfast going." He left the doorway and continued down the hall to the bathroom. Once there he took off his clothes from the day before and hopped in the shower.

A few blocks away, Allison shuffled down the stairs and walked into the kitchen where her parents were doing their usual morning rituals. Her father was eating cereal at the table and drinking coffee while reading a paper and her mother, after finishing the dishes, was scrubbing the sink. Allison walked over to the clean dishes next to her mother and plucked one of the freshly washed mugs then went to coffee maker to fill it. She added creamer, opened a pixie stick that she had grabbed from her bag, dumped the contents in and stirred it with the spoon that had been left on a paper towel near the pot. She took a quick sip and swished it around, deciding it wasn't sweet enough and opened her bag again to grab another sugar stick. She notice her supply was getting low and this made her contemplate a little bit while she held the tube of sugar in her hand, eventually shrugging and adding it to the mix.

She took her cup and walked toward the table with her shoes squeaking every step of the way. She sat down across from her father and stared at him through her hair which took its customary position over her face. They sat there in silence for a while and Allison wondered how to get a fix of the incredible feeling from the night before. Maybe she could slam her coffee mug against the wall or something. 'That wouldn't be too excessive, would it?' she thought. Just as she was about to dump her dad's cereal into his lap and overturn the table, something happened that she didn't think was possible without some sort of initiation on her part.

Her father looked up and said, "Good morning." Allison was taken aback, her eyes widening behind the thick locks in her face. They said it to each other every day but she had always been the first to say it. Not only did he say it first but there was something about the way he said it that sounded completely unobligated. Her mouth fell open and she had to force the words out, "Good morning." She brushed her hair out of her face and tried to stay composed; she figured that would be the extent of their exchange, completely unaware of how wrong she was. Her dad put another spoonful of cereal into his gape and with a mouthful asked, "Did you have trouble sleeping last night? We heard your door slam in the middle of the night." She couldn't take it and a low chuckle came ripping out of her mouth. Her dad looked at her with surprise but waited for a response. She hid her smile behind her coffee mug, taking several sips before stammering out, "Yeah uh, kind of."

Her mother chimed in as she was drying her hands, "Could have something to do with all that sugar you eat." Her father laughed a little at the comment and added, "That could have something to do with it." Allison suddenly felt touched that they had noticed something so trivial as the amount of sweets she ate. Though she had been subject to a very misunderstood silent treatment from her parents for quite some time, she apparently hadn't been ignored quite as much as she'd assumed. And it seemed that a seed had been planted when she'd slammed her bedroom door that was now blossoming into a conversation with them, even if it was a short one. They all sat there for a while, Allison's father looking back down at his paper but not really reading it, her mother looking at the floor and Allison herself smiling while she drank coffee again.

She couldn't decide which made her feel more awkward, the talk with her folks or the silence that fallowed. She stood up and walked to the front door, leaving her empty cup behind. She walked to the coatrack and threw on Andy's sweater from yesterday, zipped it up and slung her bag onto her shoulder. "Where are you going?" her mother asked with a sincere tone of curiosity. This was too much for Allison. As nice as it felt it could get overwhelming fast. She looked back and replied so quietly her parents almost didn't hear her, "To see some friends." Her parents looked at each other and back at her and nodded, "See you later." She stood silently twitching with delight before saying, "See ya" and heading out the door and down the street.

Claire had also just left her house, quietly and without letting her parents know she was leaving. She really didn't want to see or speak to either of them for a little while, partially because she was worried what they might say to her but also because she was still upset with the both of them. She couldn't comprehend how these two people who seemed so happy when she was little could hate each other so much. She was over trying to figure it out and now she was just enjoying the therapeutic stroll that she occasionally took when her parents were being difficult. She never walked very far, the farthest she'd gone was to the intersection that led to the high school, a little less than a mile she assumed. It was just far enough for her to mediate and calm herself.

She hadn't felt like wearing anything really stylish though she didn't have much choice based on what her wardrobe consisted of. She settled on a pair of jeans and a gray sweater, with shoes that were more comfortable to walk in than they were fashionable. All together she still looked kind of stylish but her outfit was practical for walking in cold weather. She'd also applied, what she considered, the bare minimum as far as makeup went. It was kind of nice not having to primp quite so much before going somewhere.

She had decided to walk to the intersection and see how she felt but she was pretty positive she wanted to be home as little as possible for the day. Maybe she'd walk a little further depending on how she felt.

Bender headed back down to his lair, holding his clothes and boots in one hand and holding his towel around his waist with the other. He toed his door open and dropped his stuff on the floor; his boots made a loud thud as the hit the ground. The hot water had felt really good considering the heater for the house never worked. So even if you were fully clothed it was tough to keep warm. Now that he was out of the shower he was shivering trying to find some warm clothes. He managed to find some clean boxers and pulled them up underneath his towel then flung the damp cloth off him. He grabbed his thermal from yesterday and stretched it over his torso. He dug up some jeans that he was pretty sure were clean and pulled them on along with his gloves and a green flannel that actually had full sleeves. He put on mismatched socks and finally his boots, tucking his pant legs into them.

He looked up and outside his window he could see a girl with a blue hooded sweat shirt and a black bag walking past his house. He walked over to the window to get a better look and just as he had suspected, it was the spaz. He all the sudden remembered one of the first things he'd said to her yesterday, 'I've seen you before, you know?' She looked over in his direction and he hit the floor, hoping she hadn't seen him. He had a bone to pick with her about the knife but he didn't want her or anyone else for that matter to know where he lived. After a couple minutes he peeked out the window and looked around. Allison had left. John stepped away from the window and decided to give her time to get out of the area before he tried leaving.

Allison rounded the corner and walked down the next street a ways. Unbeknownst to her, Andrew was walking in the opposite direction on the next street over, heading into Cheap End. He looked at all the houses he passed careful. 'She's gonna think I'm some kind of fucking weirdo' he thought to himself. Then he remembered who he was talking about.

Brian was just finishing cleaning the gutters when he looked down and saw Allison standing by his latter kicking leaves around as he obliviously tossed them down at her. He lost his footing when he saw her and fell off the latter but landed on his feet, gasping for air and laughing after a couple seconds. "You scared the shit out of me" he chuckled. She laughed at him, "You're so skittish, it's not like it was difficult." He caught his breath asked shyly, "What are you doing here?" She stopped laughing and put on a serious look. She began to stammer, "I… I just…" her eyes were shifting in all sorts of directions. Brian immediately sensed her discomfort and said, "No I mean… I mean it's cool that you're here." He laughed a little as he continued, "I'm really glad to see you."

His comment made her smile again but she was more reserved this time, like she'd put some kind of defense up. This gave him a good idea of how sensitive she could actually be and he really didn't want to cross any lines with her. He grabbed the latter, folded it and started carrying it over to the garage, motioning for her to follow him and asking, "So how's your Sunday going?" She followed behind him and replied quietly, "Ok I guess. I got my parents to acknowledge me some." Brian dropped the latter on the garage floor, out of the way and turned to her inquisitively, "Really?" "Yeah" she responded, pausing shortly then continuing monotonically, "Well it's usually pretty quiet around my house at night and if I'm ever up walking around I always make sure to stay really quiet. But then I realized that being quiet is probably what got me into this whole fucking mess of being invisible. So I thought I'd shake the tree a little bit and intentionally woke them up. Then this morning they were acting…" she gulped hard, "interested."

Brian put his hands on his hips and let a bantam laugh escape from his awkwardly smiling face. "That's awesome" he said, nodding his head. She smiled again and asked him, "How about you?" He sighed and held his hands up somewhat theatrically, "This is it, grounded, doing housework but I expected a lot worse." He thought for a couple moments and added, "Well I guess something I said yesterday really rattled my folks, or my dad anyway, in any case, I shouldn't be getting any more heat from them as long as I work hard and keep my nose clean for the rest of the semester." Allison let out a low guttural laugh and said, "Keep your nose clean" more under her breath than to Brian.

Brian started to leave the garage and told her, "I need to start cleaning up these leaves." He wanted to let her know she could leave if she wanted to but he tried to calculate the best way to say it so she wouldn't be offended, "I'm really glad you're here but you don't have to stick around if you don't feel like it." He pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth, acting like he was wiping sweat away when really he was trying to conceal his blushing face; he was really bad a saying stuff like that to girls. She walked over and patted him on the shoulder. "Aww that was kind of sweet" she jested, causing him to blush more. She laughed at him and said, "I'll stay and help you."

While they raked and bagged up the leaves, Brian and Allison talked about the day before and what might happen on Monday and before they knew it, they were finished. "So you wanted to figure out what everyone intends to do tomorrow at school so it won't be such a letdown if things don't work out?" he asked throwing the last leaf filled bag on the pile at the end of the driveway. She dug at her nails a bit and responded a little nervously, "Yeah, more or less." He looked at her, noticing discomfort building inside her again. "Well I assume you're not including me because I meant every bit of what I said and don't plan on deviating from it in any way" he tried to reassure his vulnerable friend.

She walked over to him very abruptly and hugged him so suddenly he couldn't react. She felt an incredible weight lift off her shoulders, the weight of being alone. Now she knew no matter what happened there would always be "the weirdos." The thought alone made her feel infinitely better and she was ready to take on the rest of the bullshit. Brain stood frozen as she hugged him. He raised one of his arms slowly and patted her on the back. As lost as he was on what was happening he was glad she felt better.

"Thanks" she said very softly as they parted, a single tear streaking down her face, she sniffled once and smiled as she wiped it away. Brain blushed again, 'God, I'm really bad at this' but he straightened up and replied, "Anytime."

Allison decided it was time for her to shuffle on. She picked up her bag and slid the strap over her head and started to say goodbye, "I should get going but I'll see you at school tomorrow." Brian was actually excited, "Definitely. See you later." "See ya" she replied and turned to leave. Brian called after her, "Hey Allison. Did you say you knew where Bender lived?" She spun back around and said, "Yeah. I walked by earlier and saw him in the basement of some house. He tried to hide so I assumed he didn't really want to talk to me. Are you planning to pay him a visit?" Brian flinched at the idea but he had a private agenda of his own. "Maybe, could you give me directions?"

She told Brian which way to go and his house was "the one with the sunken porch and the three broken down cars behind the garage." Afterward she hugged him and left, headed out to the main road. Brian watched her leave, feeling pretty good himself; he'd expected the others to lose interest in him after they left detention. Now at least one of them wanted to stay friends.

Tell me what you think :)


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry this chapter took sooo long to write. I had to keep revising it. I finally got it to a point where it's presentable I guess. I think the next chapter will basically cover what happens sunday evening/night and then... Everybody goes back to school!

I don't own the Breakfast Club or its characters.

Andrew continued his jaunt around the neighborhood looking for the home of Allison Reynolds. He felt crazy for doing it but he felt crazy sitting at home too, so he thought that getting out and looking for her would at least give him something constructive to do. After a while he stopped paying attention to the houses and the cars and his mind started to wander. 'I wonder how she'll look today' he thought, absent mindedly passing houses. He thought about how she looked when they left detention yesterday, 'Damn, I should have told her how beautiful she was.'

He sat down on a curb next to a big oak tree and took a break, realizing he wasn't getting a whole lot done not concentrating on the task at hand. He started tapping his foot on the asphalt at a loss of what to do. It was way easier for him to just think about sports but he couldn't even force himself. Now he couldn't help but think about Allison and, he had to admit, the others from yesterday. His mind jumped track momentarily, 'I wonder what they're doing today.' He assumed they might even be a little easier to track down and just as he started thinking Allison was probably best left to deal with tomorrow, he saw something that made his head thump back into its' primary objective mode.

"Holy shit, that's the car" he said aloud. He rose from the curb and looked at the vehicle from across the street. That was definitely the car; one of the taillights was busted and everything. This was where she lived. Andrew could feel his palms begin to sweat as he commenced a slow, hesitant walk over to the drive way. He'd never had a reason to worry over girls. Because of who he was girls had been somewhat easy to come by but this wasn't any other girl. Who he was meant shit to her, he had to try for her affection. He looked the house over. It was a humble two story house that was old but obviously kept up by the owners. He approached the front door more nervous than he wanted to appear. He climbed the steps onto the front porch, reached out to knock and before his knuckle even brushed the metal of the screen door, he heard the deadbolt unlocked and the latch slide open. Andrew yanked his hand back and stuck it in his pocket, mimicking the other.

He moved his tongue nervously across the back of his teeth when a man stepped from around the door and looked him up and down from behind the ancient screen door. The man put a smile on and said, "Hello, can I help you?" Despite the cool weather, Andy was sweating bullets but he smiled back and replied, "Uh good morning, sir. Is Allison here?" The man opened the screen door and took a step out, hanging in the doorway, "Oh I'm sorry, she's not. She left about an hour and a half ago to pay some friends a visit." "Oh", Andy said lightly, looking down at his feet; completely crushed. The man noticed the boy's disappointment, "Well is there a message you wanted me to relay to her or anything?" Andrew looked up again and replied, "Uh no, that's alright. I'm sure I'll see her later" as he smiled, waved and started to leave. Allison's father looked a little confused, "You sure?" Andrew turned around, walking backwards, "Yeah, thanks anyway. It was nice meeting you."

He turned back around and started walking quickly down the street. 'Visiting friends' he thought. 'According to her she doesn't have any. Maybe she's looking for everybody from detention. Damn I hope she hasn't hit my house already.' He quickened his pace and started heading back the way he'd come. 'Her dad didn't seem so bad' he thought.

Claire made her way out to the intersection that led to Shermer High and still didn't feel like heading home. She looked both ways, trying to decide what to do next. She regretted not calling some friends to go do something before she left; she didn't have her own car yet so her friends were her only means of transportation aside from her parents. But she wasn't sure she felt like seeing any of them either. Part of her really just wanted to go back to the day before and just hang out with the others again. She was a little terrified about Monday and just wished she could see them again before they went back, she wasn't sure if it would make things easier or more difficult but she knew it would make her feel better for the day at least.

Claire sat down on the grass near the road and watched cars wiz by for a little while, hiding her face a little each time one of them passed; she didn't really want anyone she knew to notice her even though she stuck out like a pearl among coal. 'Maybe I'll just crawl home and sleep until tomorrow' she thought. She didn't want to have to endure tomorrow and at the same time couldn't wait to get it over with. Just thinking about it made her want to cry but she held herself together, instead pulling fistfuls of grass out of the ground.

Suddenly a worn pair of Chuck Taylors came trotting up and stopped in front of her accompanied by a monotone voice saying, "That's probably not too good for your manicure, you know." Claire, somewhat surprised, dropped the clumps of grass and looked up, holding her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. She could only see a silhouette but she knew who it was and smiled, "Allison?" The basket case knelt down so that she was eye level with the princess and with her own smiling face said, "Hi."

Without any warning or thought really, Claire reached over with both arms and wrapped them around Allison, hugging her wholeheartedly. Allison hugged her back and asked, "What's the deal? You act like we didn't spend the whole day together yesterday." They let go of each other and Claire swallowed down any remaining desire to cry so she could answer the question, "I just… could really use a friend right now and here you are." Allison's eyes moved to one side and then focused on Claire again, "So we're still friends then?" Claire bit her lip and looked down at the grass, thinking for a few moments of what she was going to say to that. She made eye contact with Allison again and replied, "Look, I said some stuff yesterday that I'm really starting to regret. I was being really bitchy and I just want you to know that I'm really going to try my best tomorrow."

Allison smiled at the redhead and said, "I was only joking. I know you've got a lot of pressure on you. But you've answered the question I really wanted to ask." Claire looked confused, "What are you talking about?" Allison rose and held out her hand to help Claire up, "I was tracking you guys down to see what you were going to do tomorrow. It sounds kind of pushy now that I say it out loud but I really wanted to know. That way I would have at least a day to mourn." Claire smiled at her and accepted her helping hand. As she got to her feet she said, "That's the most tragic sounding thing I've ever heard." She realized what she'd said only after she was finished and was about to apologize for it when the tension was broken by a chuckle from Allison, "Yeah I know. It's downright pathetic." Claire hit her friends shoulder after the belittling comment and countered with, "No it isn't. I understand that more than you realize."

Allison was once again amazed at Claire's ability to speak to her like they'd known each other for years. It wasn't something she expected from someone who used to pass her at least ten times a day without at least a wave of acknowledgement. She started to wonder if things would really be different now.

Claire nudged Allison which made her snap out of her thoughts, "Huh?" "What do you want to do now?" Claire asked looking both ways at the intersection again. Allison really wasn't sure what to do. She'd already seen Brian, John had hidden from her and then, of course, there was Andrew. She was so nervous about what would happen next time she saw him that she was really in no hurry. She figured Claire might want to see them though, "I just came from Brian's. He lives just a couple blocks away. You want to go see him?" Claire nodded her head and laughed a little, "For sure. That'll be interesting." Allison chuckled and motioned for Claire to follow, "Let's go then."

Bender's eyes sprung open and he looked around his room for a second before jumping up. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck" he spat out as he made his way to his denim jacket across his room, throwing it on and then moved to his window to see if his father was home. He looked out but didn't see a truck. There was also still broad daylight so Bender knew he wasn't going to be home anytime soon. This didn't make him any less pissed at himself for falling asleep. He had planned to do some "shopping" today and even try and find a place to crash to catch up on some sleep. He usually just slept at school in the parking lot or under the bleachers or even in the back of some boring class in which the teachers were pretty lenient, but never at home. Weekends were tough so Saturday detentions weren't always unwelcome, but not fucking two months' worth. And he was relatively sure that Vernon wouldn't let him sleep there anymore.

Thinking about Vernon made John remember the storage room. Vernon had been way out of line as an academic advisor and a complete asshole to boot. But that didn't change the fact that he was right. Nobody would have sided with Bender over Vernon, nobody that would have made a difference anyway. The guy could do or say whatever he wanted to John and there'd be nothing that he could do to stop it. Just thinking about it made John want to tear the fucking house apart but he just stood by the window, fuming. What pissed him off more is that he actually felt scared. Vernon hated him so much it was only a matter of time before he had him taken out of the school in cuffs. After that the cops would just keep thinking of ways to keep him behind bars and people would think he'd turned out just like his old man which was the end all and be all of his fears, turning into his father.

Bender shook himself out of his head space and opened the window. He crawled through the small opening and left it open just in case he needed to make another daring escape though he was pretty sure if he did it again he'd inadvertently impale himself on something. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket and began walking towards the street but stopped dead in his tracks before he got there…

Claire and Allison arrived and Brian's house but didn't see him outside anywhere so they went to the door and knocked. After a series of different knocking configurations and doorbell rings both the girls came to the conclusion that he was not home. "He must have just left" Allison said with a huff. Claire scratched her head a lightly, trying not to mess up her hair, "I thought you said he was grounded." Allison adjusted her bag a little and replied, "He said he was. Maybe he's not such an eagle scout anymore" she chuckled as she continued, "I think John Bender may have created a monster." Claire began to blush when she heard the name and she looked away in an attempt to hide it. "You can't hide when your face is redder than your hair" Allison joked. Claire got a little agitated and turned her head back, "Oh yeah? Andrew Clark." Both began to laugh when Allison's face turned nearly the same shade of red as Claire's.

After calming down Allison said, "Speaking of which, Brian said something about going to visit…

"What the fuck are you doing here femme boy?" John asked, obviously displeased about who he saw standing in his yard. Brian tugged at the collar of his button down shirt and couldn't bring himself to answer. John stared at him with a manic look eerily similar to the one he'd had after the "walrus" episode the day before, which of course made Brain very nervous. After a very long, very uncomfortable silence Bender finally spoke up sarcastically though irritation bled through in his voice, "You know, you just lost a shitload of cool points by showing up here. I may have to kick your ass." Brian's eyes opened wider and his jaw hung. Bender continued, a little less irritated now that he knew Brian was scared, "It's nothing personal it's just a system. I keep cool points for everyone around me. Get too far in the negative and you get your ass kicked." Bender finished his explanation with an almost evil grin.

Brian's hanging jaw began to tremble as he reached his shaking hand into his back pocket. He extracted his wallet and held it up, hands still shaking and asked, "Would it help if I told you I was planning on spending money?" John put on a faux serious face and replied in his "Bender" kind of way, "Well I'm afraid you can't buy cool points Chess Club. And attempting to do so results in further deduction so it looks like you are going to be getting a beating after all." He went a step further and began rolling up his flannel sleeves. Brian jumped back a little, held his wallet out in front of him like a protective shield and said, "No no no. I don't want to buy cool points." John began to do some boxing style foot work, throwing punches at the air and Brian began to sound like he was having an asthma attack. Bender got into a crouched fighting position, gave the brain a very menacing look and said, "Yeah? What are you buying then?" Brain was almost at the point of full on dry heaves when he answered, "Some of that pot from yesterday."

Bender's head jerked back slightly but he stayed in his crouching position while Brian remained in his scared, defenseless "please don't kick the shit out of me" stance. After another long silence Bender started to laugh like Brian had never heard him laugh before, almost rolling on the ground with laughter. Brian stared at him for a while, fear still gripping him tightly. John walked over to him and threw an arm around him laughing like a hyena. "You want some bud?" John asked and then rested his free hand on his knee to have another good, long laugh. Brian began to loosen up and even started nervously chuckling himself. Bender started leading him back to the house and said, "Well geez, my boy is growing up" in a mock motherly tone. They stopped once they reached the house, just outside John's window and John added, "You know what? You're back up to zero cool points, congratulations."

"Oh cool thanks… I guess" replied Brian. John had one more chuckle and with a wide smile motioned to the open ground level window with his gloved hand, "My office." Brian bent down and looked into the basement, completely oblivious to the fact that John meant for him to enter. He stood back up, looked at Bender and said, "Cool room." Bender shook his head and grabbed the back of Brian's neck, forcing his head down through the window. "My office. Step into it" John exaggerated each syllable to emphasize each word to make sure Brian understood. Brain crawled down into the basement followed by Bender who proceeded to a stack of boxes next to one of the walls, nudging them aside with his foot which revealed a hole near the floor about the size of a softball. He reached in and pulled out a few pieces of trash that he kept in the hole for protective measure. He reached back in, almost all the way to his shoulder and finally pulled out the baggy from which he'd supplied his fellow detainees with a very satisfying mental vacation the day before.

Brian once again felt a little anxiety at seeing it. Here he was breaking very specific rules laid down by his parents to come to the house of a guy he was kind of terrified of to buy drugs. His knees started to feel weak so he knelt down and let himself fall backward into a sitting position amongst John's junk that laid strewn across the floor, resting his head on his knees. John looked over at him while he put a small fraction of the bags' contents into a separate zip lock and called over to him, "Don't get comfortable, we're not sticking around." Brian looked up and the word 'we' echoed through his mind. Had he been accepted by Bender? Would he be able to walk up to him tomorrow like an equal? He thought such questions were probably better left unasked and unanswered but he couldn't help but feel that this visit was a step in the right direction.

Bender shook the bag in his hand, weighing it without conviction and put his own stash back in the hole in the wall. Brian stood up and dug his wallet back out; he'd dipped into his personal savings to pay for the weed. He walked over to John and asked, "Uh how much do I owe you?" Bender snatched Brian's wallet out of his hands and dug through it, pulling out most of the money he'd bought with him, shut it and handed it back to him along with the bag. "Pleasure doing business with you" John said with a relatively straight face, "Now let's get the fuck outta here."

The two left the basement and began walking down the street. Brian assumed John was done being hospitable for the day and figured he'd just head to his house before his parents got back. Bender kept walking alongside him though and took out a cigarette, pitching the empty box into the street. He lit the cigarette and said, "I'm headed to the store to pick up a few things. Want to tag along?" Brian was stunned and looked over at Bender with a face that implied so. He had to be joking. Brian cleared his throat and asked, "You really want me to go with you?" Bender saw the look on his face and said, "Chill out man. It's not like I asked you to blow me or anything. I just thought you might want to grab some papers for that stuff. Quit staring at me before I put this cig out on your forehead." Brian faced forward quickly, quite sure John would make good on his threat if he didn't. He really needed to get home. His mom would be out for another hour or two but he really wasn't sure what time his dad was coming home and he'd be grounded for way more than the rest of the weekend if his father came back and he wasn't there. Despite everything in his mind telling him that he shouldn't, he said, "Yeah I'll go."

John simply nodded his head, eyes never leaving the road ahead. The two of them walked in silence down the street until John saw something in the grass that he wanted to check out. Brian stopped in the road and watched him stroll over to whatever it was that was laying there. Bender knelt down and picked at the grey material, shifting it around until he saw a couple of familiar looking pins on a lapel. He stood up with his coat in his hands and held it out to examine it. It had a few chew marks in parts but it looked generally okay. It was warmer now so he folded the coat and hung it over his arm, walking back over to Brian who decided not to ask any questions. Bender walked past him and asked, "You coming?" Brian shrugged and followed.

Andrew made his way up the street toward his house and noticed his father's truck in the driveway. He wasn't all that excited about going home to wait for Allison, particularly because he was too taken with this girl to just sit in a house with only memories of the day before to keep him company and because there was a very strong chance that she wouldn't show at all. Having to deal with his dad didn't make the idea of going home any more enticing to him and he'd rather walk past his house and keep looking for the quiet girl that haunted his every thought. As he got closer to where he lived and saw his father outside cleaning the inside of his truck. He chose to run between a few houses and over onto the next street in lieu of passing his house and confronting his dad again. 'Shermer isn't that big' he thought as he started jogging down the road. 'Maybe I'll see her walking around.'

Heading in the opposite direction, Claire and Allison walked side by side just a couple streets away. They talked about art and music, as well as their respective romantic interests, revealing that they both had mixed emotions about how they felt toward their would-be suitors. Claire laughed and said, "I never realized that we had so much in common." Allison nodded in agreement and Claire stared at her a while. She was back to wearing her thick eyeliner and feral hairstyle which Claire couldn't help but comment on, "No preppy look today huh?" Allison's hair fell over her face as she looked down at her shoes, "Well… Well I… I don't really know how to do makeup like that. So I thought I might, you know, mess it up." Claire smacked her on the arm lightly, "Don't be offended. You're beautiful anyway. You don't need all that stuff to make you look good." Allison looked over at her still a little hurt, "Then why did you do it?"

Claire stopped, turned Allison toward her and said, "Because for all I knew that was the last time we would ever speak and I wanted to do something nice for you. I didn't give you a makeover because you needed one but because it's the only thing I'm good at." Allison chuckled, "You're pretty good at turning heads." Claire smiled; happy she'd made her friend feel better and said, "Look who's talking." Allison looked at her with confusion, "What does that mean?" Claire rolled her eyes and said, "I bet Andy has a sore neck from all the times he looked over at you and turned away whenever you caught him." Allison blushed and opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Claire, "And don't say it was because of the makeover because he was staring at you long before I did that." Allison's face seemed abnormally red compared to her usually pale skin as she replied, "Ok I can turn one head I guess." Claire smiled and began walking again saying, "That's the only one that matters right?" Allison followed her and asked Claire if she wanted to hang out at her house. "You may not like my end of town but you're more than welcome" she said, brushing the hair out of her face. Claire was really surprised at the invitation but gratefully accepted and the two began a steady march into Cheap End.

About a stone's throw from the convenience store, Bender grabbed the back of Brian's shirt, yanking him to a halt. Brian twisted around quickly pulling his shirt out of Bender's grasp and with a very surprised tone asked, "What? What's wrong?" Bender laughed at the nerd's jitteriness and answered, "You tell me. You afraid I'm gonna steal your lunch money or something?" Brian stood up straight and adjusted his collar, trying to look more relaxed than he really was. He had qualms about walking around town with a bag of marijuana in his underwear and the idea of going to get rolling papers didn't make him feel any better but Bender was right; he would need them. "Why are we stopping?" Brian asked, trying to sound kind of tough, like the situation didn't bother him. Bender recognized the ruse but decided not to call him out, "I need you to do me a favor and keep the cashier distracted for a couple minutes while we're in there."

Brian's attempt at bravado was far away and gone by the time Bender finished his statement and his eyebrows shot up instinctually, "For what?" Bender looked at him like it was the dumbest question he'd ever heard, "What the fuck do you think?" Brian's face paled a little bit and he began to feel nauseous. Now Bender was asking him to lend a hand in more illegal activity in which, if caught, the police would be called and they would most definitely find the bag and he'd be sent to jail. He'd never be allowed back at school and his parents would kill him. He began breathing heavily as he tried to talk John out of making him participate, "But you practically did steal my lunch money. Why not use some of the money I gave you?" Bender laughed though Brian was obviously in dismay, "I plan to. Just not for everything I plan to leave the store with. I gotta save some for important stuff like cigs, booze and bud." Brian gulped hard, mustering up the courage to tell John how he felt, "I don't think I should. What if we get caught?"

Bender stared open mouthed at him for a few moments and then walked up close, getting in his face, "What if we get caught?" His tone was calm at first but then it began to elevate not so much in volume but in harshness, "What if we do? I'm not asking you to hold somebody down while I stab them to death. I'm just asking you for a little diversion. If we get caught we run. No big deal."

Brian wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, "Alright, let's go." He was still reluctant but breaking the rules had felt pretty good yesterday. Bender stepped away and put his long coat and glasses on, turned to face the store and distorted his voice to sound extra nerdy and mimicked him, "Alright, let's go."

As they walked toward the store, Brian was still uncertain of how to act once they were inside, "How should I go about doing this?" Bender patted him on the back jokingly, "You'll think of something Einstein." Brian still wasn't reassured, "What if he asks what the papers are for?" John, frustrated again, "Goddamn, '_What if_, _what if_.' Just tell him you roll your own cigarettes if you feel like you need to but he won't ask." Brian took a cue from his tone and didn't question any further.

Bender walked through the door first followed closely by Brian, both nodding at the cashier behind the counter who was eyeing them both as the came in, probably unsure if they were together or if they'd just come in at the same time. They didn't look like the type that would hang out together. Bender looked at Brian from behind his shades and went down one of the isles. Brian looked over at the cashier and approached slowly trying to come up with some kind of bullshit to feed him but nothing came to mind. The guy behind the counter kept looking over at John, fairly certain he was the one that needed to be watched and Brian stepped directly in front of his field of vision. The cashier tried to look over him but every time he did Brian shifted, keeping Bender out of his line of sight. "Can I help you?" the clerk finally acknowledged Brian's presence. Brian found a niche when he saw the insignia on the man's baseball cap and though he knew next to nothing about sports, he figured it may just buy Bender the time he needed. He tried his best to keep from looking nervous and said, "How about those Cubs huh?"

The Clerks eyes snapped up at the question but he remained reserved. He grabbed the bill of his hat, took it off and looked at it with a chuckle. He place it back on his head and replied, "Eh, their playin' like shit this year" sarcastically adding, "surprise surprise." Brian laughed a little and tried to recite things that he heard other people say when they talked about sports, "Yeah well, what can ya do?" Just a few isles away, John was stuffing small bags of chips and candy bars into the multitude of pockets his numerous layers provided. He made his way over to the drink coolers, looking over to the counter where the cashier finally broke through Brian's visual defense, leering accusingly at him. Bender answered back with a toothy grin, fully aware that the clerk hadn't seen him take anything and could there for prove nothing. The cashier leaned back over to Brian who'd just finished saying, "That's why you can't go wrong with the Bears." The man raised an eyebrow at him, "Well I can't disagree with you but that's football, you know?" Brian flinched a little but recovered quickly, "Well what I meant was uh, that if you're going to represent a Chicago team, it should be one that, you know, wins." The cashier had a good laugh and replied, "Yeah I guess you're right about that." John approached the counter and, as rudely as he could make it seem, cut in front of Brian, placing a candy bar and a soft drink down in front of the cashier, "Can I get a carton of Chesterfields with this?" The clerk thought nothing of it and reached up to the shelf that contained the cigarettes, factoring in and giving Bender his total as he set the carton down in front of him. John pulled out one of the ten dollar bills he'd procured from the brain's wallet earlier, handed it to the cashier and kept his hand out, waiting for his change, "You know, I heard you guys talking baseball up here" and nodded his head at the clerk who handed back a few coins and waited for him to add his comment. After a few seconds of silence the cashier said, "Yeah, and?" Bender picked up his "dummy" purchase, smiled and began walking backwards toward the door, "Oh nothing, I just wanted to let you know I heard" and exited.

Brian kept himself from laughing and turned back to the man behind the counter who was now shaking his head as he watched Bender leave, calling him a wiseass. Brian decided to quit while he was ahead on the sports jargon and make his exit as well. "Well I could stay and talk your ear off about this topic for hours but I'll let you buy the book" he said with a very loose and relaxed manner and motioned toward the rolling papers behind the counter, "I'll take some of those Zig Zags off your hands buddy" controlling the urge to tell the guy that he rolled his own cigarettes. Once again, seemingly without thinking, the cashier reached back and grabbed the product without even asking so much as his birthday. 'This is so easy' he thought and smiled on the inside. He paid and turned to walk out. When he heard, "wait up" he nearly coughed up his heart. He looked back wide eyed and thought that the guy had either picked up on the fact that he'd helped Bender steal stuff or he was about to ask what the papers were for. Just as Brian was about to drop to his knees and confess, the man behind the counter held up a quarter and said, "You forgot your change." Brian chuckled with relief and said, "You keep it man. Maybe I'll have some credit for next time." The cashier laughed and answered back, "Alright buddy, you have a good one." Brian went out the door and as soon as he was out of sight ran around to the side of the building where he expected to see Bender but didn't.

He looked around for a minute, wondering if John had finally decided to ditch him when all the sudden he felt something press against his back and heard a low growly voice say, "You're under arrest son." Brian jumped like he'd seen a ghost and turned around to see "the criminal" holding a bottle of soda out like a gun, laughing good naturedly and only slightly manically. Brian smiled and gasped for air, too startled to laugh right away. John tossed him the bottle and said, "Now my boy is really growing up" throwing his head back and laughing a little harder as he took another soft drink out of his jacket pocket and took the cap off. After he caught his breath he asked, "Didn't that feel good? To break outta that little box the world forced you into?"

Brian looked astonished as he nodded his head. Had Bender just purposely made him break the law so he'd have fun and loosen up? Bender continued, "Good. You're welcome." He ripped open the carton of cigarettes and took out a pack from which he took out a cigarette and lit it up, stuffing the carton back into the inside pocket of his coat. His words were muffled by the tobacco product resting between his lips as he tried to clarify, "I'm not condoning shoplifting" he grabbed the cigarette between his index and middle finger and took a long drag, allowing the smoke to puff out of his nose and mouth as he finished, "but you need to do something outside of the box every once in a while. Do something nobody's gonna see coming, its great fun. And when you start saying those damn '_What ifs_' you love so much, you need to be asking yourself, 'What if _I_ cut loose a little? What if _I_ have some fun?' After all the shit you go through for other people, don't you think you deserve it?"

Brian nodded again still wide eyed with disbelief. 'He's a lot smarter than I thought' he said of Bender in his head. Bender seemed like he had this undeniable knowledge of life and people, it made Brian wonder what other kinds of things he knew. Brian looked at his watch. "Shit Bender I need to head for home." John's demeanor changed but he kept a thin smile, "God you're a pain in the ass. Let's roll." The two began walking toward the Johnson residence, which Brian was more than a little nervous about…

Lemme know how you like it.


	8. Chapter 8

**What's up everybody! Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I just got back to using a computer again and frankly I'm floored at how many update requests this story has gotten. I'd like to thank everyone who has read this story and for all the kind words and support. You guys are the best! Well here it is, without further adieu, Chapter 8 and I apologize again for keeping you guys waiting. Hope you like it.**

**And once again, I do not own The Breakfast Club or it's characters.**

"Now, my parents were acting really weird earlier but they may have snapped out of it so don't expect a meet and greet. We can just head straight up to my room, they won't care." Allison told Claire as she hopped up the steps onto the porch and grasped the handle of the screen door. Claire asked on her way up the steps, "Weird?" Allison turned to her and replied, "Yeah, paying attention to me." The comment made Claire tip her head a little, "So normal would be..?" Allison nodded her head and answered, "Oblivious to my existence" and paused before she opened the door, remembering how they'd acted earlier, "Well not that bad I guess. They just don't talk to me very much."

Allison poked her head around the front door to check things out before she let her friend in. She could hear the T.V. in the living room as well as her mother rummaging around the kitchen. When she stepped in all the way, waving Claire in, her mother poked her head around the corner and said, "Sweetheart, your home!" which caught Allison off guard causing her to squeak loudly and nudge Claire back outside. "Is someone with you?" her mother asked curiously. Allison smiled as she tried to process what was happening; her mother was speaking to her, she knew that much. Was she in trouble because she'd brought somebody over without permission? Her mother stepped from around the corner and smiled at her, "Well don't make them stand out there all day, invite them in." Allison blinked back out of her thoughts and stepped out of the doorway, allowing Claire to enter. Claire nodded and held out her hand, "Nice to meet you Mrs. Reynolds. My name is Claire." Allison's mother walked over, shook Claire's hand with a large grin and said, "It's very nice to meet you, Claire." She began laughing out of nowhere which sort of puzzled Claire who turned to Allison for some kind of explanation which she was in no position to give since she was as perplexed and Claire was. She spoke up for the first time since she entered the house, "What's so funny?"

Her mother caught her breath and replied, "I'm sorry. I was just under the impression that you had a boy with you." Allison got wide eyed, "What! What gave you that idea?" Her mother giggled lightly again and called out to her husband, "George, we have company." Allison's father came out of the living room and into hall by the front door, holding out his hand, "Hi there. I'm Allison's father, George." Claire shook his hand and said, "Nice to meet you, I'm Allison's friend, Claire." George motioned toward the kitchen and said, "Well come in. Make yourself at home." They all moved into the kitchen and Allison's mother began straightening up the already presentable kitchen saying, "Allison hasn't had a friend over in ages, please excuse the mess." Claire looked around the clean room and then to Allison who shrugged. George moseyed over to the coffee maker, poured himself a cup and asked the girls if they wanted anything to drink. "No thanks" the two said simultaneously, Allison adding, "We're probably just going to hang out in my room" as she pointed her thumb over her shoulder toward the stairs. Her father nodded his head and took a sip of his coffee before he said, "Oh before you go, somebody came to see you today… A boy." Allison eyes widened again and she looked over at her mother who smiled back at her. He continued, "He was acting kind of strange but he was very polite." "Was he wearing a letterman jacket?" she asked. Her father jerked his head back, a little puzzled and answered, "No but" he held his hand out, "he was about this tall, kind of athletic looking, light brown hair, blue eyes." Allison blushed and looked at Claire who smirked back.

"Possible romantic interest?" he asked. Allison tried her best to hide her face behind her hair as she replied, "Possibly." Her mother walked over and wrapped her arms around her husband, sensing her daughter's discomfort. She smiled and said, "Have fun girls." Allison could feel the heat in her face rising as she grabbed Claire's arm and yanked her toward the stairs, barely letting her finish what she was saying, "Nice meeting both of you."

Not too far away, Bender and Brian were making their way to the Johnson residence. To do what, Brian wasn't sure but he knew if Bender was involved, it was going to be anything but tame and having him at his house would surely cause an upheaval of the peace he'd just established with his parents. Despite the rumbling feeling in his gut telling him it was a bad idea, he didn't dare object to John coming back with him, mostly because of his fear of how he might take it. The two hadn't said one word to each other since they left the store and any reason why Bender might even want to go to Brian's house seemed unfathomable. 'Maybe he wants to see how accurate his portrayal of my home life is' he thought.

When they came to a cross street, Brian looked down the intersecting road and saw somebody running, he turned his attention back to the road ahead of him again briefly before he looked back down the side street again. The person looked awfully familiar but they were kind of far away so it was hard to tell who it actually was. Bender looked back over his shoulder and noticed the Brian had stopped walking and was now standing in the middle of the intersection, staring like a goon at someone he couldn't make out, "What? That your boyfriend or something?" Brian disregarded the comment and as the pedestrian came closer, he saw them waving their hand somewhat frantically, as though the person was trying to get his already undivided attention. "I think it's Andy" Brian told Bender without breaking his narrow, focused gaze. Bender looked away, switching his view to the horizon; uninterested. Brian squinted a little bit more and added, "He's running his ass off." John chuckled, "Probably training for some butt-humping wrestling match." His head snapped back over to the figure down the road when he remembered something, "Wait." He walked over to where Brian was standing and asked, "Is there a dog chasing him?" Brian looked a little bewildered at his question but answered, "No." Bender sighed with relief and went back to being unenthused. It's not that he didn't like the jock he just didn't care for him. Sporto didn't scare easily like most other people did and that pissed him off a little. Fear was the only tool Bender could use to get respect, the only one he knew of anyway.

Brian started to wave back, letting Andrew know that they could see him. Andy came jogging up and, huffing a little said, "What's up guys? I never thought I'd see the two of you hanging out outside of detention." Brian laughed and looked over at Bender who was still cross armed looking off at nothing. "We almost didn't recognize you without your letterman jacket on" Brian jested. Andy chuckled and asked, "What are you guys up to?"

"We're just headed back to my house I guess" Brian replied, less than ecstatic about the idea. Bender swung his head around and spoke up, "Now wait a damn minute. I was just waiting for you to offer me part of a joint. I'm not walking all the way to your house to get a few drags off a pin." Andrew's curiosity mounted, "You were waiting for Brian to offer you pot?" He looked at Brian who seemed equally confused, "Why does he think he can get pot from you?" "Well I…" Brian began but stopped to look around and make sure no one was within earshot before continuing in a whisper, "…bought some off him earlier." He then began talking in a normal voice again, "But I don't understand" turning to Bender, "don't you have your own stash at your house?" Bender uncrossed his arms, scowling at the two as he approached, "Yeah, that was my shit. The same shit that I smoked you guys out with yesterday. Now that you've got your own, you can smoke me out." Andrew started to get a little pissed at John's pushy tone, "Nobody asked you to get us all high yesterday man." John snapped back, "Well nobodies asking you now Sporto. I'm telling our buddy Bri here how I operate." His jaw muscles tensed before he added, "And I was perfectly content smoking by myself yesterday but you all followed me." "Just feeling generous then were you?" Andrew countered sarcastically. Bender's nose scrunched a little and he answered, "Yeah I was. But that doesn't mean you can talk to me like we're buddies, asshole."

John grabbed his glasses out of his shirt pocket, put them on and turned to leave. "Bender, wait up man" Brian called out as he began to walk away, "We can still smoke." Bender stopped and cocked his head slightly so he could speak without looking at them, "Nah, it's cool. I gotta get going." He started walking away again and Bri yelled to him once more, "You sure?" John held up his hand to signify his farewell and lightly replied, "Yeah. I might see you guys tomorrow." With that he left without even a backward glance. Andrew and Brian just stood there and watched him leave, Andy inquiring, "What the hell is his problem?" Brian was a little hurt and dumbstruck by what Bender had said but answered, "I don't know. He was acting normal when we left the store earlier. Or maybe he was acting normal just now and he'd been acting weird the rest of the time. I don't know what his issue is." Andrew tried not to read into it. Bender seemed to make an honest effort at being nice yesterday but maybe the whole staying friends thing was just a pipedream. In spite of that notion, Andy still wanted to give it a try. He saw the look of disappointed in Brian's face and tried his best to make him feel better, "Don't worry about him. If he doesn't want to be friends with us, we don't need him." Brian nodded but Andrew knew that his words hadn't had the desired effect. Brian sighed and said, "It's alright. He didn't treat me like a total geek so I have no complaints." He decided to at least fake contentment even though he had very little at this point. He threw on a smile and told Andrew he'd run into Allison earlier. Andrew's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he asked, "Where?" Brian could see Andrew's desperation and knew that their visit was about to be cut short, "She came by my house while I was doing yard work but didn't stay long. She was trying to get a hold of everyone before we head back to school tomorrow. I'm surprise you didn't run into her yet."

Andrew threw his head back and sighed as though he'd been told he would live after being diagnosed with a terminal illness. Brian kind of smirked, finding it a little funny that he was totally mad for a girl he hadn't known existed before yesterday but he'd never say that out loud. He enjoyed the idea of love and all that stuff but he was also smart enough to know that some people experience love and the feeling of being loved and some people simply do not. He'd come to grips with the fact that he was the latter of the two types but still enjoyed the idea of an affection most people would refer to as love.

Brian heard Andrew ask him something but wasn't sure what. He blinked and shook his head like he'd just woken from a daydream and asked, "What?" Andrew chuckled and repeated his question, "I said, 'Where was she headed when she left your place?'" Brian thought for a second, brushing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. It had only been a couple hours ago but it seemed like days for some reason. His hand came off his face, fingers snapping as he remembered, "She was walking toward the main road, the one that leads into town but she didn't say where she was going." "Shit" Andrew said, sounding slightly defeated. There was still no telling where she would be but at least now he had an idea. "Well I guess I'll get heading that way" he said and patted Brian on the shoulder, "You alright?" Brian laughed again and batted Andy's hand away jokingly, "Yeah I'm good. Get going or you'll never catch up with her." As Andy began walking backwards away from the brain he asked, "You ready for tomorrow?" which caused Brian to chuckle nervously but he nodded and asked, "Are you?" Andrew stopped like he had to think about the question. Was he? He'd been so hung up on Allison he hadn't thought how he might treat the others when he saw them tomorrow. Even now standing in front of Brian, he couldn't conceive how he may feel seeing him, or John, or even the girl he was so desperate to confront today, in the halls of school with everyone around to see. In a split second Andrew decided that a lie was better than the truth, "Yeah, I'm ready. I'll see you there." And then he turned and was gone, leaving Brian by himself to head in the other direction. Not that he was upset. He needed to get home anyway but now he felt an even deeper level of incertitude than he had before Allison got to his house. He thought they'd just ignore him, which would suck but he could live with it. But now he had to deal with not knowing if they would ignore him or not and while it wasn't all that different than feeling like he'd just be flat out overlooked, it was now a nagging uncertainty. Frustration began to take hold of him before he burst into a full sprint down the street towards his house.

A few blocks away, Bender was walking with an equal amount of disgruntlement. The whole thing with Brian and Sporto and all the being friends shit had really started to piss him off. He didn't want all the happy feelings and the "let's be friends" crap. It all seemed like yuppie bullshit to him and that's not who he was. Happy for him was snaking a bag from one of the blackout drunk assholes who frequented any number of the local trashy hangouts, or getting to crash at some random, slutty chicks house for a few days. Those people he'd met in detention were happy with straight A's and trophies and their fucking proms and parties and being talked to… or listened to. 'Fuck 'em all' he thought as he chain smoked and stomped down the street. To him, all the kids from yesterday and all their touchy feely garbage was stupid and he wanted no part of it. He was far too stubborn, however, to admit that what was really bugging him was the fact that he wanted to hang out with Brian but didn't want either him or Andrew to think he'd gone soft. He couldn't admit, even to himself, that he wanted friends he could trust and that he actually liked the people he'd served detention with. Deep down he had potent feelings for each of them but his denial was much stronger and wouldn't allow those feelings toward the surface. Right now all he could think about was not showing up at school tomorrow. He'd be there sure, but he'd be sleeping out under the bleachers where none of those pussies would see him. That'll deal a nice blow to the little, pansy fairytale they've cooked up.

John looked up as he passed the first few dilapidated houses that led into Cheap End, grinding his teeth and taking in a huge breath that he held in until his face was red, like he'd intended to yell as loud as he could but never opened his mouth. He balled his gloved hands into fists so tight, his nails felt like they would puncture his palms.

After holding his breath to the point where he felt light headed, he let it go in a gust of an exhale, allowing all the tension in his body to escape as the air left. An effective way of shutting the brain down, keep it from getting oxygen. Now instead of angst, all he could feel was the ensuing daze, which in some ways was equivalent to having a buzz. He staggered down the street looking at the neighborhood he knew all too well and with a scowl said, "Home sweet, broke down, shitty, dirty, fucking home." A little ways down the street, he could see a dog in the road, running from yard to yard, pissing on mailboxes. John crouched down near a parked car and waited until the canine was close enough to identify. Sure enough, it was his old nemesis Skidmark. Bender stayed crouched as he slipped away between a couple houses, over a few fences and onto another street opting to take the long way instead of sprinting the entirety of the short way.

He was thrilled when he returned home and his father wasn't there yet. He decided to go through the front door, which he considered an indulgence because he only did it when his father wasn't around. He pulled the cigarette carton out of his coat as he walked into his parent's room and found that his mom hadn't moved from her spot on the bed. Poor woman had been sitting there staring at the walls since he'd last seen her. He reached out to hand her the carton but pulled it back to take another pack out before extending it back to her. She smiled as she grabbed it and said, "You got 'em. Thanks a lot." John turned around and walked out as he replied, "Yeah, whatever."

Of course he'd gotten the goddamn cigarettes. After what she'd done for him, that was the least he could do. It was abundantly clear to John that his birth was not something that had been planned or welcomed. His father had wanted his mother to get an abortion, which he professed to John on numerous occasions, but she couldn't go through with it. Since he could remember, he was the recipient of countless acts of aggression and violence. For the most part his mom just sat back and let it happen but there were a few times that stuck very well in John's mind, when she had stood up for him and even taken the beating that was intended for him. She was no angel but John was eternally grateful for that. His feelings for her were more loyalty than love.

He went to the living room, turned on the T.V. and sprawled out on the couch with his coat spread out over him like a blanket. T.V. was also something he didn't do when his father was around and was such a rarity that he could be entertained by even the most boring of shows. He laid there watching a fishing show with unhindered focus and before long he was out cold.

At Allison's house, Claire had been looking through several sketchbooks of some of the most incredible art she'd ever seen while Allison sat on her bed plucking away on an old classical guitar she got when she was younger and had a classical music obsession. She'd taken a few lessons when she was thirteen so she wasn't really good or bad at it. She just liked to play every now and then because it was just another outlet, a way to focus and center herself. Claire looked up and said, "This is some of the best stuff I've ever seen. You're really good with a pencil." Allison chucked as she set the guitar aside, "Art is the only class I'm not passing." Claire stood up and closed the sketchbook, sliding it back into its' spot on the shelf as she asked, "Are you going to enter anything into the art competition coming up?" Allison sighed, "I'd like to but the art teacher says I can't because I'm so close to flunking." Claire didn't understand, "Why are you flunking in the first place? You're really good at drawing." Allison began to blush a little. She wasn't good at receiving complements because she seldom got any but she answered, "At drawing, I guess, but in art class you also have to do paintings and sculptures and stuff like that. I just kind of ignored that stuff because I prefer working with a pencil. Lead doesn't seem so... permanent." Claire simply nodded, "I guess that's not so hard to understand but you should really see what it will take to get your grade back up. It'd be a shame not to be able to enter the art contest, especially when you're so talented." Allison laughed, "You're starting to sound like the school shrink."

"Is that the infamous shrink you told us about?" Claire asked jokingly. "The same, only he didn't actually screw me. He's a pretty good listener though" Allison replied, causing both girls to laugh a bit. They both went quiet for a while and, while Allison kept staring at the floor, Claire kept looking at the ceiling, shifting her glance back and forth between it and her friend a few times before asking, "So what's your issue with Andy?" Allison's head snapped up and she thought for a few seconds before answering with just five words, "Too good to be true." Claire nudged her, "That's not necessarily true itself. The two of you might seem like a strange pairing but I've seen stranger relationships work." Allison shook her head and said, "I mean, what if we get to school tomorrow and he ignores me or thinks I'm not beautiful because I'm not dressed nice? What if we give it a try and he decides later that he doesn't want to be with me?" Claire answered seemingly without having to think, "Then at least you'll know you tried, right?" Allison slouched a little and looked at the floor. She understood what Claire was saying but trying just seemed so pointless to her and she decided to just change the subject quickly, "What about you and Bender?" Claire didn't react to his name the way she had earlier because, due to the fact that she'd mentioned Andy to Allison, she knew it was coming. She answered as honestly as she could, "I have no idea what to expect from John Bender. It's like I hate the kind of person he is and he's made it clear he doesn't like who I am either but in spite of that there's an attraction. Or at least that's how I interpret it." Allison had straightened back up after managing to get the focus off herself and prodded further, "What do you think will happen between you guys tomorrow?" Claire shrugged and replied, "Like I said earlier, I'm gonna try my best."

Then there was a knock on the bedroom door. Allison got up, strode over and opened it a crack. Her mother was standing in the hall munching on a piece of asparagus and said, "Dinner is ready when you girls are." Allison said, "Alright, thank you" and stared at her in disbelief as she walked back down the hall and down the stairs. She looked over at Claire, who had an inquiring look on her face, and said, "That's probably the first time she's told me dinner was ready in like five years." Claire trembled at the thought. She hated her parents dragging her into their shit but she couldn't imagine what it would be like if they didn't speak to her. "What's it like" she asked, a little worried Allison might get offended, "now that they are talking to you again?" Allison searched her mind for a good analogy, settling on, "Kind of like how Christmas is to little kids only a little awkward." Claire smiled, glad that the new turn of events weren't completely miserable for her. Allison motioned for Claire to follow as she opened the door and stepped into the hallway, "You hungry?" Claire nodded, got up and walked with Allison downstairs to join her parents at the dinner table.

Andrew had jogged out to the main road, stopping at the intersection to reassess his plan of action. The encounter with the brain and the criminal had given him some hope but he finally admitted to himself that, by some otherworldly force, there was no way he was going to see Allison today. He'd been out all day and the evening had begun, before long the sun would start to go down. Gazing down the road toward the school, he decided to just leave it for tomorrow since that's what it was all going to boil down to anyway.

When he got home, his parents were watching T.V. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of milk, guzzling it down and setting the glass down on the counter with a thud. He leaned there a while thinking about how he would deal with his folks or even sleep tonight. He figured he'd just try and stay in his room away from his parents but on his way there his father asked, "Where were you all day?" "At the gym." Andrew answered without stopping. He made it to his room and shut the door quietly, waiting for a few seconds to make sure that they didn't want anything else from him before he laid down on his bed and got comfortable. 'That was pretty painless' he thought as he put his arms up behind his head. He thought of how long the night was going to seem when it was just him alone to think about tomorrow, 'Now comes the hard part.'

Brian sat in his room with the window open after finishing part of a joint filled with the marijuana he'd bought from John. He felt good and dazed as he sat on the floor, legs crossed in front of him, reading about antimatter in a physics book. They were all things he already knew but they seemed way more amazing after he smoked. He looked up from his book, squinty-eyed with his mouth hanging open, over to his desk. He crawled over to it and rested his head on the flat surface, pulling a pencil and paper out of a drawer and setting them down in front of his face. He began writing out complex equations for no other reason than being the only thing he felt like doing. After finishing a particularly intricate one, he lifted his head and looked the paper over wondering how the worlds' greatest thinkers had ever come up with this stuff. Like, he understood the theory of relativity, but what had inspired Albert Einstein to come up with such theories?

He heard a noise from outside that sounded like someone hitting a drum. Another one followed it and then another at the same interval. The rhythm of the drumbeats, if that's what they were, stuck in Brian's head and before long he was tapping the eraser of his pencil on the desk to the same rhythm. After a few seconds he grabbed a pair of scissors and was doing a completely improvised solo on a set of imaginary drums. When he heard the front door open he stopped, pencil and scissors held above his head, gulping hard as he tried to figure out what was happening. He then heard the front door shut and dropped his unorthodox drumsticks when he realized that the drums he'd heard were the doors of the family car shutting. He jumped up and started waving the stench of weed out the window with a dirty shirt. There was a knock at his door and he jumped so hard he almost hit his head on the ceiling fan. "Just a minute" he yelled as he took off his over shirt which he was sure had pot stink all over it and threw it on the floor. He went to the door, held his hand in front of his mouth and huffed into it a couple times, shaking his head nervously after getting a whiff of his breath. He opened the door a crack, holding his hand over his mouth in an attempt to conceal the odor of hemp. His father was on the other side, one eyebrow pitched in curiosity, "What's going on in there son?" Brian kept his mouth covered and tried his best not to panic as he answered, "Nothing."

"Yeah? Why is your hand over your face like that?" his father asked. Brian's answer came out so fluidly he almost fooled himself into thinking it was true, "I wasn't feeling well earlier so I took a nap and when I woke up I felt worse, I think I might have a cold." His father seemed convinced, backing away from the door and saying, "Oh… Well we brought dinner. I'll have your mother fix you a plate so come and get it when you're ready." He left and Brian shut his door, walked over to his desk and tore it apart trying to find the breath mints he kept somewhere inside it. He finally found them and popped a few in his mouth before walking out to the dining room where his family was passing around boxes of takeout at the table. He grabbed the plate his mother had fixed for him and sat down on a stool at the counter answering his mother before she had the chance to ask, "I'm not feeling well, I think I'll sit over here so I don't give it to anybody." His mother sipped some of her ice water and asked, "Do you need to go to the doctor?" Brian spooned a heap of food into his mouth and shook his head, "I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow" his words were muffled by the food. "Don't talk with your mouth full" his mother grumbled, "Do you think you need to stay home from school?" Brian shook his head again knowing that he would dig himself in deeper if his parents thought he was too sick. His mother seemed to loosen up and said, "The house looks nice. You did a good job." Brian got up from the counter and said, "Thanks" as he went to the sink and poured himself a glass of water. He gulped it down, poured another, gulped that one down and poured another which he brought back to the counter where he scarfed down the rest of his dinner. His parents looked at each other but said nothing; he usually took quite a while to eat dinner but it had only taken him a few minutes tonight. They made the mutual assumption that it was whatever sickness he had and didn't ask any questions.

After he was finished, Brian excused himself, "Thanks for dinner. Good night." He hoped to make it to his room before someone could say something but his mother asked again, "Are you sure you want to go to school tomorrow?" Brian didn't think about the question, he didn't need to, "No I'll be able to go." He hurried to his room before anybody else could say anything. Once there, he flopped face down on his bed and closed his eyes. The sun had gone down and he was feeling a little tired. He didn't think about the next day or the Breakfast Club because he was too busy thinking of things that people normally don't bother with, like what it would be like to be sucked into a black hole. Strange thoughts but they didn't seem that way to him, not in his current state of mind. He'd achieved his goal; to take his mind off tomorrow, even if he was too high to realize he'd been successful and though his mind was jumping from one thought to the next at incredible speeds, he felt very, very relaxed and before long was out like a light.

John jumped when he felt the toe of a boot nudge his chest and looked up sleepily at his father who was holding two six packs, one with four vacant plastic rings. It didn't take an empty six pack for John to figure out his dad had been drinking for quite some time; the smell of much stronger alcohol radiated from him. "Get up" his father said as he turned around and moved to the rocking chair on the other side of the living room. John reached one of his hands out from under his coat and rubbed his eyes thinking, 'Goddamn it that was fucking careless!' His father grabbed one of the beers from the pack at his feet and cracked it open, taking down a few huge gulps as he watched T.V. He looked over at his son and said, "Get the fuck up. You wanna sleep, go sleep in your shithole and quit stinkin' up my goddamn couch." John sat up, stretched and rose to his feet, grabbing his coat and strolling across the room. When he walked in front the T.V. he dropped his coat on the floor and stopped so his dad couldn't see the screen. He jokingly snapped his fingers and said, "Aw shucks" kneeling down to grab his jacket as slowly as possible. His father waved his hand, visually telling John to get out of his way. John continued to take his time, brushing lint off the collar and his father downed the remaining contents of his brew and chucked the empty can at him. The can hit John scare in the side of the head and he looked up almost psychotically at his father. His dad made a face that was unbearably similar to his own, so much so that John had had his fill of it for the day and stood up with his coat, stepping to the side of the television and saying, "Chill out dad, it's just Cops" He walked over to the basement door, his father watching him every step of the way, opened the door and started down the steps toward his room. He hung his head through the doorway, his father was still watching him as he added one last comment, "I'm sure if you try your best you'll be on the show in no time." His dad jumped out of his chair and ran towards the basement door. John pulled his head back into the stairwell quickly and almost fell down the stairs when his father kicked the door, slamming it shut.

He waited until he heard the sound of his father walk back into the living room before he headed down toward the basement. He knew it wasn't smart to provoke his dad but at the same time he knew he couldn't let him think he was scared because that would make things way worse. Living out on the street had begun to sound like a nice idea but John knew the local pigs wanted to see him locked up and vagrancy would be a good enough reason. Down in his room, John looked around for something to keep him occupied until morning. Smoking weed or drinking would make him tired and he definitely didn't want to fall asleep again. He found a heavy metal magazine under some stuff that hadn't been moved in so long he couldn't even remember if he had actually read it before. He contented himself with it and a bag of chips from his coat pocket but before long he was done reading all the articles and looking at all the pictures and was left with nothing to do. There was no clock in his room to tell him what time it was but he hadn't heard any commotion upstairs in quite a while so he figured his old man had passed out. He stood up, turned the light out and sat back down on the mattress on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. He found a spot on the ceiling to stare at until morning while he checked to make sure the metal shard on the floor was still within comfortable reach. The waiting game had begun…

The car with the busted taillight stopped in in front of a long driveway that lead up to the very large, very glamorous Standish residence. Allison stared at the house in astonishment, mirroring her father's expression as he gawked from the driver's seat. The house had multiple lights that lit it up from the outside and made it look even grander. Claire looked over Allison at the house and cringed with embarrassment. No wonder everyone thought she was stuck up. "Wow" Allison said, "This place looks like a castle." Claire nodded in agreement, scowl unyielding. Allison reached over and tugged lightly on a lock of Claire's vermilion hair and added in a mock cutesy voice, "But I guess it would have to since a princess lives here." Claire yanked her head away and lightly backhanded her friend's arm before opening her door to leave. She reached over the front seat and presented her hand to George again, "Thanks again for dinner and the ride." Mr. Reynolds shook her hand and replied, "Oh, you're welcome. Come and visit us anytime." "Thank you. I will" Claire said as she exited the car. She shut the door and walked around to the passenger side where Allison was hanging her head out of the window, "Well Claire, it's been…" she paused for a second, "It's been weird but I had fun. Thanks for hanging out with me." Claire laughed and said, "Thanks for letting me."

They both nodded through an uncomfortable silence before Allison finally said something about the next day, "When you see me, don't be afraid to say hi." Claire smiled as she let out a sigh, "Same to you." Allison looked away as she thought about that, turning back to say goodbye as she got up so her knees were on the seat with the entire top half of her body hanging out the window and gave Claire a hug, returning the gesture that Claire had given her earlier that day. "See you there" Allison said, hoping her friend could use the words for encouragement. With that, they separated and the car drove off. Claire stood in the driveway and watched them round the corner before she began walking toward the house. Everything was dark when she entered the house and ran her hand down the wall, feeling for the light switch. Her parents were obviously out but that didn't surprise her. They went out a lot. They'd go to dinners and parties to mingle with their respective peers or potential associates. Claire was kind of disgusted when she imagined them drinking just enough to be able to stand each other so that they could put on happy faces and act like the perfect couple. It was pretty ridiculous but to them it was just a way to keep themselves in the loop so they could keep making contacts. She'd begun to think that they were just two partners who'd decided to get married because it would help them expand their business. That's how they acted at least. Claire was all too familiar with it; she'd only recently convinced them to stop dragging her along and she savored every night that she had the house to herself. She flipped the lights on and walked over to the couch. She got comfortable and turned the T.V. on slipping her shoes off as she channel surfed.

Before she could find something she wanted to watch, the phone rang. She let it ring a couple times before answering it, "Hello… Oh hey… No I'm awake… I'm feeling much better tonight, thanks. Sorry about last night. I just needed to vent to someone… Well I appreciate it… Are you still planning on coming here? … Of course not. I can't wait to see you… Ok then. I guess I'll let you go… Alright, talk to you later… I love you too… Good night…"

Claire smiled brightly and hung up the phone. She flipped through channels until she felt tired enough to go to sleep, turned the T.V. off, got up off the couch and stretched before walking upstairs to her room where she got ready for bed. Before she got home she had worried she wouldn't be able to sleep but the surprise phone call had taken her mind off the next day completely and it wasn't long after she climbed under her blankets that she was fast asleep.

**Sorry if this chapter seems a little lackluster. I swear I didn't mean to write it that way if it does. If it seemed a little rushed at the end it's because... well... it was. I was going to write more elaborate parts on how Claire and Allison spend their respective evenings at home before they go to sleep but to be perfectly honest, I ran out of ideas and I really couldn't wait to get to the meat of this thing which, as we all know, is the next day at school. So that is what the next chapter will entail and I promise I'll do my best to keep it interesting. Thanks again for reading.**


	9. Chapter 9

Early Monday morning, Brian had just finished brushing his teeth and was tiptoeing down the hall towards his room, his hand clasped around his towel to keep it closed as he darted behind his door and shut it as softly as possible. Yesterday, before the weed had taken full effect, he'd set his alarm to wake him up an hour early so he could duck his parents and walk to school. He usually took the bus but he'd always seen Bender and Allison walking to and from. Brian sure wouldn't mind that kind of solitude before he got to the fulltime job that was his high school career and figured it was worth waking up an hour early.

He pulled on a white t shirt that he tucked into his khakis. As he was threading his belt through the loops in his pants he had an idea. He walked to his dresser, opened the drawer he kept his pants in and began shoveling through the pairs and pairs of identical khaki pants until he found what he was looking for. He held up a pair of blue jeans that he only wore when he was at home doing chores. They were faded, with paint stains and thin spots in the knees that had begun to fray. He thought about it for a minute after which he took his khakis off and pulled on the blue jeans which were comfortably worn in, airy and loose in places the other pants definitely weren't. He had to admit, the jeans made him feel good. They made him feel tough and more masculine even. He put his belt on and began to tuck his shirt in but decided to just leave it as is. There was no way his mom would ever let him go to school like this which made him all the more eager to leave before she and his father were done getting ready for work.

He grabbed his jacket, hat and his backpack and crept toward the front door. He gripped the handle and turned it slowly, wincing every time it made a sound. He pulled the door open just enough to get his body through and then repeated the process in reverse on the other side.

The sun had just started to peek over the horizon as Brian started off down the street toward the school; nervously peering over his shoulder periodically to make sure his mother wasn't there.

Claire stood at the end of her driveway waiting for her friends to pick her up. She didn't really want to ride with them but they came to her house everyday like clockwork and she didn't want to stand them up either. So she waited. She'd decided to just try to play it cool until she got to school and if she felt like she couldn't handle it she'd convince her friends to ditch with her again. She could see the headlights of her friend's car coming down the street and she adjusted her hair and clothes.

"Good Morning, gorgeous" one of Claire's friends said as the car pulled up next to her. Claire bent down and looked in the car to see who was inside. Her friend Becky was driving like always but other than Claire herself the passengers were never the same for two days consecutively but always people from within their circle. To ride in Becky's car was sort of a status thing. Like the girls who rode along were Becky's favorites for the day; something Claire did every day since she and Becky were especially close friends. Today their friends Katherine and Danielle were in the back seat and both waved to Claire when she got in. She was relieved that it was people she could stand to be around. Sometimes Becky gave rides to people neither her or Claire could really stomach just for the sake of being nice.

"Good morning, ladies" Claire was good at acting like nothing was bothering her. On the way to school Becky asked, "Why didn't you call me Saturday like you said you would?"

"I was in detention Saturday dumbass" Claire answered, a little bitter about the fact that Becky had also been caught for ditching but didn't have to go to detention. Becky's head jerked back at Claire's reply, "Your dad couldn't get you off the hook?"

"He said he couldn't but I don't think he tried" Claire said as she stared out the window. "I got him back though."

Everyone's curiosity mounted and Danielle spoke up first, "How?"

"I kissed this guy right in front of him when he came to pick me up" Claire stated smugly, realizing only after what she'd just admitted and nearly threw up. The car erupted with the voices of the other three people. Danielle said, "Gross! In front of your dad?" Becky and Katherine asked simultaneously, "Who the hell did you kiss?!" Claire's face once again came close to the shade of her hair and the three couldn't contain their laughter.

"Jesus Christ you're getting red" Becky pointed out. "Who was it?" she asked.

Claire kept her head turned toward the window and said nothing but instead held her breath and hoped they'd drop the subject on their own. After a couple seconds of silence Becky realized that it was probably somebody Claire didn't want everybody knowing she'd kissed and decided that it would be best not to prod further. But the other two were far from finished.

"It was someone you were in detention with, right?" Danielle persisted. Claire remained silent.

"Was it someone we know?" Katherine joined in. At this Claire laughed, "I think so…"

Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds were backing down the driveway about to begin their morning commute to their respective jobs when Allison sprinted out the front door and came barreling down the driveway after them, coat and bag in hand. Mrs. Reynolds noticed Allison giving chase and told her husband to wait. The mop of Allison's thick black hair pushed through the open window as she asked, "Do you think you could give me a ride to school?"

"Sure. Would you like to get some breakfast on the way?" asked her father.

Allison opened the rear passenger door and tossed her bag in, "No thanks. I'm too excited to eat."

She sat down and shut the door. Her heart pounded, partially from running through the house and down the driveway to catch her parents but mostly because of the suspense of the upcoming day. She was going to walk but thought it'd be better to just get there and get it over with. She was tired of waiting.

"We had no idea you were so passionate about academics" her mother said, to which Allison gave no response. She was so nervous she'd begun to sweat in spite of the cold. She chomped on her fingernails as she thought, 'Great, now I'm really going to look like shit.'

Andrew sat in his truck outside Shermer High. He hadn't been able to sleep and decided to leave early, arriving at school before the sun came up and waited. Though he still worried about how the day would pan out he was rather calm. Probably from being tired. Slowly the school buses starting pouring in and he watched everyone come off and gather around their usual hanging spots on the sidewalk and steps out front. Some kids walked into the front door. A few others headed around back toward the bleachers. No sign of Brian. He looked over at the entrance of the parking lot and saw a few cars coming in. Becky Blake's convertible hadn't come in yet so that meant no Claire either. He looked for Bender walking in from possibly any direction but didn't see him anywhere and figured that he'd probably be late if he showed up at all.

For lack of anything better to do, he got out of his truck and headed for the front of the school. He was so enveloped in thought he didn't realize he'd walked past his friends.

"Hey Clark! You too cool to hang with us or something?" Andrew picked his head up and turned around. His two friends Kyle and Rodger wore lettermen jackets identical to the one Andrew chose not to wear today. He walked back to them and said, "Sorry guys. I'm a little out of it today. What's up?"

The two shrugged at each other before Rodger responded, "_What's up? _What's up with you? Why'd you bail Saturday night after your match?"

Andrew chuckled lightly, "I was a little out of it that day too."

Kyle tapped the shoulders of both boys, pointed behind them and said, "The nerd caravan has arrived."

Andy and Rodger both turned around and saw a group of brainy kids storming out of a bus, scattering out in different directions once they saw the trio. Kyle dropped his bag and burned off after a couple of the horrified honor students.

"Kyle! Fuck those kids, man! Let's just go inside!" Andrew called out.

Rodger set his bag down and slapped Andy on the arm saying, "Come on Drew. This is just what the doctor ordered." He also began pursuing a frightened teen leaving Andrew by himself on the steps of Shermer High. Being a jock suddenly didn't feel so cool.

Bender sat in his room, ready to go to sleep once his dad left for work. He stared unflinchingly at the wall, watching the sunlight slowly creep across it, over rusty nails, small nicks and scuffs, the only method by which John could keep track of the time. There was an inscription on the wall that he'd carved one night after a particularly harsh flogging that read, '_Fucking drunken Nazi TRASH!' _Once the light touched the last exclamation point it would be around 6:40am. The light was now about 6 inches passed it and that was evidence enough that his father didn't plan on going to work today. John was irate about going to school just to get 40 winks but anger didn't hinder his decision whatsoever. It's not like his father cared if he went to school or not but John couldn't spend another minute in that house if he was chained to the floor. He couldn't handle an entire day of heavy, board creaking footsteps, the carbonated hiss of beers being opened, the ping of bottle caps hitting the floor, farts, belches, drunken laughs, curses, slammed doors and broken glass. He heard too much of that on a regular day. A prison cell would have been more ideal.

Wearing the same clothes he'd worn the day before, duster and sunglasses in hand, he crawled through the ground level window, into the yard and into the face of a very vicious looking dog. Bender's body went numb as he stared into the snarling maw of sharp teeth. The dog carried an air that seemed to suggest, '_You're mine now.' _

Bender gulped hard as he reached into his pocket and fished out a bag of chips leftover from the day before, opening them slowly under the gaze of the fierce canine. He held out the bag and waved his hand carefully in front of the mutt's face until it's nose was buried in bag, devouring the greasy snacks until there was nothing left. John waited for the next move, one arm holding his window open in case he had to dive back in. Skidmark just stood there. He didn't growl or snarl or bark. He just stood with his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he breathed in and out quickly like he'd forgotten to do it while he was eating.

Bender had never seen him so composed before. He almost looked friendly. John stood up and started walking toward the street never taking his eyes off the dog which glance back at him in a similar way. After John was about halfway down the block he turned around to face forward as he walked. There was something surreal in walking away from that mutt since all the years Bender had lived there he'd never known the dog to be docile in any way. He started to wonder if it would just stand there all day so he looked back and noticed that it had moved. It now sat next to a telephone pole about 20 feet down the road behind him. Bender eyed him for a while until he felt confident enough to ignore him and continued. After another few minutes he turned around again and the dog had scooted a little further up the street and now sat in the grass of someone's yard.

"I don't fuckin' believe it" John said after figuring out he was being followed…

Back at Shermer High, Andrew remained on the steps of the school watching buses roll in. He didn't want his friends to catch Brian so he figured he just try and give him a heads up when he arrived but the influx of buses had thinned and he began to wonder if everybody but him had decided to just skip today, a notion that quickly passed once he spotted a bright blue convertible with a black top. When he squinted he could see a mane of red hair through the glass of the windshield.

Inside the car, Claire sighed heavily when she saw Andy on the steps outside school. '_At least it's Andrew' _she thought, not knowing how she'd react had it been somebody else from detention. After the car was parked, the girls walked toward the school in an impenetrable formation that parted several groups of people and received stares from many more from within its wake. As the mass of kids on the stairs split to make way, there stood Andrew Clark, unfazed by the relentless march of debutantes. They made sure to wave and bat their eyelashes as they all rang out in unison, "Hi Andyyyy." Andrew smiled and nodded almost out of habit. Laughter ensued as the girls passed but Becky stopped when she realized something was amiss. Claire hadn't said hi or laughed at all and upon inquiry Becky realized that she was no longer walking next to them. She spun around to see where Claire had gone and saw her standing near Andrew. She smiled as she remembered what Claire had talked about in the car, '_Maybe that's who she meant.' _She snapped back to reality in time to see Katherine and Danielle walking toward them. She moved quickly to intercept the two, pulling them back toward the schools' entrance.

"What are you doing?" cried Danielle.

"Don't you want to see what that's all about?" asked Katherine pointing at Andrew and Claire.

Becky herded the girls through the front door and replied, "We'll catch up with her later. Let's leave them alone for now."

Outside Claire was asking Andrew if he'd talked to anyone else yet. "No. I was just waiting here" he told her. Claire chuckled, "Just waiting here? Are you going to act like you're not nervous?"

"I'm sure it'd be more noticeable if I weren't tired" Andy chuckled back.

It was getting close to first period and there was still no sign of Bender, Allison or Brian. "It probably wouldn't be so bad if we all met up out here. Nobody would know what to think. People wouldn't have a chance to judge" Claire said as she and the jock stood on the tips of their toes to look over the heads of incoming students, keeping a lookout for a pair of khakis with a Christmas sweater or an overstuffed bag or a pair gloves without fingers. By the time the mob had made their way inside Claire couldn't wait any longer, "Let's go inside. We'll see them later."

Andy turned around but didn't leave his spot, "I'm going to stay here a few more minutes."

"Are you sure?" Claire asked.

"Yeah, I usually sleep through first period anyway" he said as he waved her on.

Claire smiled and said, "Alright. I'll see you at lunch then" before shuffling into the building.

Andrew turned to see if anyone else was walking up when something caught his eye over near the edge of the parking lot. He saw Kyle heading for someone who'd just come in from the road. Andy started heading that way and could hear Kyle saying something to the kid but he couldn't make out what it was. It sounded bad though. The closer he got to them the more familiar the stranger became until he realized who it was and ran over to the two in time to stop Kyle from grabbing hold of Brian. "What's up guys?" Andy made his presence known to the fellow jock who stopped as if he'd forgotten his objective and replied, "Nothing."

Andrew handed Kyle his bag and said, "I think that chick Carrie-Anne was looking for you." The jock's eyebrows snapped upward and he checked his breath before saying, "Hell yeah. I'll catch you later, Clark" and ran toward the side entrance of the school. Andy had a chuckle at the simple yet effective ruse and turned to Brian who looked quite flustered, "You look different" he commented on the brain's choice of clothing.

"These are more comfortable" Brian stammered, his hands still out in front of his body from his encounter with Kyle moments earlier.

Andy laughed as he looked his friend over, "Looks cool, man. Don't take this the wrong way but you don't even look that dorky today."

Brian became less tense, adjusted his backpack and said, "Thanks, I guess." He was pretty amazed that Andrew had approached him in front of one of his regular friends. It wasn't something he was prepared for but it was a pleasant surprise none the less. The two said nothing, instead taking in the fact that they were interacting at school while there were other people there. There was hardly anyone around to see it but the two friends began nodding in satisfaction as they looked around at the few stragglers who were running to get to class before the bell rang, more than likely oblivious to the fact that a jock was mingling with a brain and not because he was paying him to do his homework.

Brian laughed as someone passed right by them, "Not so bad, right?"

"Nah, this is fine" Andrew replied.

Their expressions turned grim as the attendance bell rang and both sprinted toward the main building. Andy reached the giant door first and ripped it open. Brian ran through the entrance without cue followed by the jock. Inside classrooms, the screech of shoes gliding on linoleum could be heard accompanied by occasional laughs as the two accidentally plowed into trashcans, slammed into walls of lockers or tripped and slid across the floor trying to avoid what few student were still trying to get to class. While approaching another junction, Brian tagged Andy's shoulder and said, "We're actually doing this, man."

Andy smiled as he looked around, "Too bad no one is paying attention to us."

Brian looked around and said, "I guess you're right."

Upon reaching the next intersecting hallway Andrew said, "I'll see you later either way" as he headed off down the hall to the right.

"We'll see" Brian said as he turned left and went down the hall in the opposite direction.

He opened the door to his classroom just as his teacher was taking attendance. "I'm here!" he huffed trying to catch his breath, "I'm here."

The portly, middle aged teacher looked at Brian over his reading glassed and replied sarcastically, "Oh. Well thank heavens. I wasn't sure how I was going to teach without you reciting all of the correct answers, Mr. Johnson." The class began to chuckle before he finished, "Since it is not a common occurrence, I will not mark you down as tardy but know that this is not an exception I will make twice. Now take your seat."

Brian thanked the teacher and started walking to his desk. On the way, he felt his jacket snag on something. He looked down and saw Becky Blake lightly tugging at the copper zipper of his coat. He gulped audibly as she gave him a devious smile and said, "Run faster next time… Mr. Johnson." She let go as he passed and he sat down behind his desk, feeling very fortunate that he hadn't worn his tight fitting khakis…

"I hope we're not going to make you too late" George Reynolds said as he looked at his watch.

"It's ok. I appreciate the ride" replied Allison in the backseat. She looked out the window and saw Bender being followed by one of the ugliest dogs she'd ever seen. She stuck her head out the window and waved to him. It took him a second to recognize her but once he did he threw on an archetypal, 1950s, Ozzie & Harriet smile while he aimed his middle finger at the car which was now so far down the street Allison couldn't tell if Bender was waving back or pointing and laughing. She pulled herself back in and pressed her back against the cracked vinyl of the seat, letting the cool wind fling her hair up and down like tiny, dark fingers tracing the features of her face. Her stomach began to tighten when, in the narrow space between her father's headrest and the roof support, she saw the school. She leaned toward the window for a better look and noticed that everybody was inside already but wasn't sure if she should be relieved or upset. The car came to a stop in front of the steps leading up to the front door as Allison's mother tried to explain that they would not be off work in time to pick her up so she would have to walk.

"That's fine. Thanks for the ride" was all she said before exiting the car and quickly walking around to the side entrance to avoid detection by hall monitors. Her parents simply shrugged and drove off.

Once inside, Allison walked through the hallways as stealthily as her squeaking shoes would allow, peeking into classes as she passed them, looking for anybody. She came across one room that had a math class going on inside. She combed the group of kids with her eyes and recognized the back of Claire's head almost immediately. '_Damn, she's lucky. I wish I had math for first period and not have to worry about it the rest of the day' _she thought. She looked up at the room number before leaving to peek through more doors, '_216, 216, 216.' _

As she was about to round another corner she heard the sound of squeaky shoes, someone else's squeaky shoes. She stopped and listened to the footsteps get closer and closer and in a panic began looking for a place to hide, silently walking along a row of lockers until she found one with no lock. She opened the door, climbed in and closed it behind her in time to see a kid with glasses and a bright orange sash round the corner and walk past her as she watched through the slits at the top which seemed like they were made for this exact purpose. Once he was well enough down the hall she opened the door, carefully stepped out and began walking in the opposite direction.

She looked around the corner of another hall and saw a different hall monitor walking away from where she was so she began tiptoeing across when her shoe let out an abnormally loud squeak that echoed through the long corridor and roused the attention of the patrol she was trying to avoid but by the time he turned around she'd already crossed the hall and was now walking hastily toward the end of the next, periodically looking over her shoulder to see if she had been discovered. After looking for a third time she saw the hall monitor following her and calling after her. She looked forward and quickened her pace, ignoring the 'hey you's and the 'you need a hall pass's. She could hear his pace quicken as well and adjusted her own accordingly until they were both at a mild jog. She turned a corner and entered the first door she came across…

Outdoors, Bender had stopped outside the schools perimeter and taken another bag of chips out of his pocket. Skidmark sat and eyed the bag with his jaw hanging open and drool cascading from the corners of his mouth. John waved the open bag high out of the dogs reach and said, "I'm glad you're not trying to eat _me_ anymore but it's high time that you fuck off." He then tossed the bag as far as he could and watched the dog run after it in a drool dripping frenzy waiting for it to come down. He then took the opportunity to leave and disappeared behind the main building heading for the bleachers.

Under the bleachers there were several people that John saw almost every day he actually came to school but rarely spoke to. Some kids got up and moved when they saw him while others respectfully nodded to which he generally responded with a nod, some of the kids didn't even go to this school and were just there to hang out with friends but everyone kept to themselves. Everyone came here to avoid something so it went without saying that the peace had to be maintained and that bullshit or grab ass of any kind would not be tolerated. Bender had no problem with this since he was almost always holding and today was no exception. He sat down in his usual spot and lit up a cigarette, taking a deep drag and letting it roll out of his nose and mouth as he leaned back against a support beam and let his head rest on the cold steel. To him it was totally normal to feel more comfortable here on the ground than at home in the basement…

Allison had ended up in what looked like a large supply room. She saw a set of stairs that led down into the basement so she went down to lessen the probability of being discovered. All was dark at the bottom of the stairs but she noticed light coming from a room about 30 feet away. She crept through the dark, sliding along the wall as she tried to forget about her memories of "A Nightmare on Elm Street." She could hear music as she got closer to the doorway of the room but she didn't realize how close she was to a shelf and bumped into it; knocking a couple things off it and making her heart skip at the same time. Inside the room she heard something stirring and a looming shadow came into the doorway.

"Who the hell is that?" a voice called out as bright overhead lights came on and illuminated the room. Allison looked up from the fetal position she'd assumed and saw Carl, the janitor, standing in the doorway. "Jesus, are you alright kid?" he asked as he stepped out of the room a little to check on the frightened basket case. Allison noticed a can of beer in his hand which he quickly swung behind his back and said, "Uh… You shouldn't be down here. It's cool if you're ditching class, I won't tell anyone but it really isn't safe down here."

Allison stood up and said, "Sorry. I was just curious to see what was down here. I'll leave."

"Hey" Carl called out as she turned to leave, "You're one of those kids that was here Saturday for detention. What the hell did you guys get into? There was a hell of a mess for me to clean up."

Allison chuckled unintentionally and said, "I'm really, really sorry. We didn't mean to wreck the place."

Carl smiled and said, "Eh its ok. I'll let you guys have that one for free. But if you do it again you're staying and helping me."

Allison smiled and nodded before she started to leave. Carl took a sip of his beer and called out to her, "Hey, if you walk up the stairs, take a left and go out the door all the way at the end you'll come out near the bleachers, if you're trying to ditch class that is."

She took his advice and was soon outside near the bleachers. Underneath, she could see someone lying down in the dirt on the far end and knew it could only be one person. Some of the people there didn't even stop talking to look up at her when she passed while she could feel the eyes of others following her every move. A few kids played cards and some drank liquor hidden in soda cans and a couple simply read books. There was a boy and girl making out next to a water fountain and some more kids huddled in a circle puffing joints. The whole thing kind of reminded Allison of an old west movie where the stranger walks into a safe haven of outlaws. She was an outsider here but that's how everyone here had started out. She shuffled through the dirt until she came across a familiar flannel-clad burnout that was passed out on the ground with a cigarette burnt down to the filter hanging out of his mouth.

She nudged Bender's leg with the toe of her Chuck Taylor and received no response. She nudged a little harder but John remained motionless on the ground, evidently in a deep sleep. Allison huffed, at a loss of what do to. She slung her bag off her shoulder and it dropped onto the ground next to Bender's head. She took a quick look around before kneeling down to sit. She pressed her shoulder against the steel beam next to her and suddenly a gloved hand moved in front of her face so quickly that she couldn't react or see what it was holding until she heard a click and saw a blade fling out about six inches from her nose. She jolted backward, landing in the dirt and looked up at a wide awake John Bender who was viciously staring back at her. She caught her breath as he folded the blade back into the handle and put it in his pocket.

"You're not the only one with quick hands, just remember that" he said as he lied back down, lifting his head once more to say, "And watch who you poke with your shoe. You're lucky you didn't lose a toe." With that his head hit the dirt and he was once again out cold. Allison's jaw twitched as she shifted back into a comfortable position. Could she really call this a successful first encounter? He hadn't told her to leave. He woke up, took his knife and went back to sleep. She started to wonder if everything about John Bender was that simple.


End file.
